In The Child's Best Interest
by MissjudyK
Summary: In this early prequel, Ben Cartwright and 4-year-old Adam stop in Cleveland where pay was good at the docks. Ben hopes to earn enough to start the final leg of their journey to Missouri, and a wagon train west. But a couple at their boarding house have plans for Adam that don't include Ben. The story ends 26 years later as Ben helps Adam recall the ordeal and the outcome.


**In the Child's Best Interest**

 **One**

"I'm getting up, son," Ben told the little boy next to him as the he sat up in bed. "You can go back to sleep while I get ready," he added when he saw his son's eyelids remain closed even as he grunted his agreement with his father's plan. Ben leaned over to kiss the top of Adam's head. "Did my snoring keep you awake again?"

"Unhuh." Adam yawned loudly as he stretched and then curled back up under the covers. "But I snored too. I was so loud, I woke myself up." A sly smile played at the corners of the child's mouth.

"I do love an honest man. And I did hear a lot of snuffly snoring coming from your side of the bed." He felt Adam's forehead for signs of fever, and gave a relieved sigh when he found none. "Do you feel all right?"

"Yup. I played in the field yesterday; that makes me snore just like you."

Ben chuckled. "Then maybe you shouldn't play there." There was no answer. Adam had already drifted back to sleep, snoring softly, just as he'd confessed to doing. The proud father raised his eyes heavenward as he sent a brief thanks to Elizabeth. "He is a little wonder isn't he?" He smiled as he thought back to all they'd been through on their amazing journey.

The two Cartwrights, and the nanny Ben had hired to watch after his infant, had left Boston four years ago, heading west to find land and opportunity. Mrs. Callahan had been in her early 40s, and had recently lost a late-in-life baby and her husband to an outbreak of flu. She'd agreed to leave her home for a new adventure because she'd thought she'd wanted a life unencumbered by the pain that haunted her. But her resolve to share in Ben's dream had weakened by the time the trio had reached Pennsylvania.

Mrs. Callahan had lost her immediate family, but she'd left behind her parents, siblings, and a bevy of nieces and nephews, and her absence from them had weighed heavily in her heart. She'd told Ben about the homesickness as soon as it had become a problem, and they'd worked out an arrangement that had been the best for both families. The pending loss of his caregiver had been hard, but it hadn't been the first setback in his original plans. The journey had stalled several times already, and he'd looked at it as just another turn in the road.

His biggest problem from the beginning had been the lack of cash. He'd misjudged the expense in traveling with a nanny and child, and his savings had depleted rapidly. Since his original timetable had become irrevocably lost, he'd decided to figure out what skills he'd need to begin a homestead and try to find jobs that would help prepare him. There would be no need for a sailor where he was headed, so he'd figured out ways to provide a decent income that would sustain them financially until he'd be able to find the fortune in their new land. The stark truth was that money would disappear as quickly where he was going as it did where he was, and his best option had shown itself to be in slowing his trip while he acquired skills and cash in an area of the country with more opportunities.

He'd been comfortable with his decision, and he'd worked while Mrs. Callahan had watched Adam the year she'd been with them. He'd learned a lot about caring for a child under her guidance, and as her time with them had waned, he'd become confident he'd manage alone. His initial experiences without her had made him certain that waiting a few years before taking to the Oregon Trail had been sound. He'd handled men under his command, but his toddler hadn't responded well to orders, and Adam's natural curiosity had provided many breathless moments. The little boy could vanish faster than the cash in Ben's pocket, and he'd realized that his parenting skills needed as much honing as the other aptitudes he'd needed to develop.

Traveling even short distances since Adella Callahan's departure had been as difficult as he'd predicted. But it had always been an eye-opening and heart-swelling experience that had left him thankful for the opportunity to know his child so well.

He'd been fortunate in finding boarding houses on their journey where the widow, as was usual in such establishments, had offered to watch Adam during the day so Ben could work. He'd already learned how to run a trap line; manage forested land, and raise crops and animals. He'd worked for a blacksmith and a tanner, and helped to build a house or two. But their money always went faster than the miles they put behind them.

They'd headed toward Cleveland after hearing there was good cash to be made at the docks for someone with experience. With what he was earning now, he expected that they'd be able to head to his brother John's place in the fall; help him through the winter months, and then purchase a wagon and supplies to begin the final leg through Indiana and Illinois a year from now. In Ben's new timetable, they would start west by the time Adam was six. He was excited…and impatient…about the prospect of their wagon being in a line, ready to pull out of Missouri. But for now he knew to take each day as a blessing and enjoy them without souring on the journey.

His musings ended when he heard Adam talking in his sleep. He grinned as he watched the small bump in the bed for another minute before he began washing up.

Ben returned to the room after going downstairs, and shook Adam's shoulder gently. "I'm heading for work now, and have to tell you about a few changes today."

Adam looked up at his father and yawned. "What do you mean, Papa?"

"Mrs. Winters will be watching you today instead of Mrs. Stauffer."

The little boy's lips turned downward into a deep frown. "Why can't I be with Mrs. Stauffer? I like her better."

"I know you do, son, but Grace is sick, and Vera volunteered to help. She's trying to make breakfast for everyone so they can get off to work, but she's burning everything." He chuckled. "I'm going to leave now and stop at a café by the docks. She said you should stay up here until she comes for you. That'll give her a chance to get things straightened out in the kitchen."

"But, Papa, she's mean!" The half-moon pout continued.

"I've never seen her be mean to you. It's not like you to make up stories."

Adam buried his head in his pillow, muffling his voice as he explained, "Not mean to me, Papa. Mean to Mr. Winters. She hollers at him all day long, and's only nice when other people are here."

Ben fought not to grin but lost the battle. "You'll be fine, young man. Don't go deciding things without giving her a chance. Sometimes husbands and wives can be a little cross with each other, but she's always seemed nice to you."

The frown had been replaced by resignation when Adam raised his head from the pillow. "I guess."

"So…is there anything you need before I go?"

"A story."

Ben smiled. "We have bedtime stories young man, not, staying in bed in the morning, stories."

"But you said _any_ thing…and that's what I need."

"What do you want to hear?" Ben asked with a sigh, knowing he'd been outsmarted by the sweet face and innocent eyes of this four-year-old, expert negotiator.

"Tell me about the Erie-Ohio canal and how you take care of the barges."

"All right, but it has to be the short version." He sat next to Adam on the bed, pulled him closer and stroked the little boy's hair as he began. Moses Cleaveland and his party of men found a good place for a town on the shore of Lake Erie. But there was no way to get products to the lakeshore or inland, so it couldn't grow until the territory decided to build a canal from the lake to join the Ohio River. They said it had to be at least 40 feet wide and four feet deep so barges had enough draft when loaded. It stretches 37 miles from Lake Erie, south to Akron. I work as a harbor master to oversee the barges that come in filled with crops and goods from down-state. We unload them and send their things to town or the ships. Then I get the barges loaded for their trips home."

Adam sat up as he beamed. "And nothin' gets off or on any a them boats lest you give the say so, right, Papa?"

"That's right."

"And Cleveland is spelled wrong, too."

"You do remember everything don't you?" He tousled his son's hair as he stood. "The city was named for Moses, but when they tried to get his last name on a newspaper masthead, it was one letter too long to fit, so they dropped the first 'a', and that's how it's still spelled."

"Will you take me to the harbor before we go to Uncle John's? I wanna see the canal and the ships."

"I promise." He leaned to kiss the little boy's head again, and said goodbye. He knew how much his son wanted to see the ship basin, but it was a dangerous place. He'd seen many accidents involving pedestrians hit by wagons on the packed streets, and he'd witnessed more than a few men topple into the water from docks that were narrow and crowded. He didn't want Adam to get lost in the constant hurry of the place or injured when his fascination took his attention away from the danger around him. Yet he knew he'd have to take him there before they continued on their trip. They often walked to a hill where they could see where the bay and the channel merged, but the boy had a real fascination for all that had gone into building the canal, and he wanted to _go there_. Ben wasn't sure if his son's aptitude for this particular form of engineering would serve him later in life, but he figured it was possible. He and Abel had sailed the sea, but maybe Adam would learn how to make water cooperate with the land.*

He stopped in the kitchen to check again with Vera before leaving. "You're sure Adam won't be a problem for you today?"

"Of course not, Mr. Cartwright. It's a shame that Grace is so ill. But I'll do what I can to help out. Everyone else will be gone, so it should be a very quiet day for us."

Ben offered his thanks, and said he'd be back around six. He'd seen Grace Stauffer in the kitchen on his first trip downstairs. Her color had been ashen, and she'd said she hadn't slept a wink because of the pain and intestinal uncertainty she'd experienced. Vera had sent her back to bed, and then taken over. He had to smile as he'd thought about Adam's comment on the constant harping between Vera and Stanley Winters. He'd heard her berating him many times as he'd pass their room, although she was always pleasant toward her husband when others were around—just as Adam had noticed. He supposed that she let her guard down when it was just a small boy within hearing distance.

He wondered what had brought the Winters to Cleveland. They'd always remained closed-lipped about any personal details. Vera said that Stanley was some sort of salesman, but she also said that he couldn't disclose his product. Most guests at the boarding house were willing and anxious to share their stories, including their successes and hardships. But the Winters always dodged any inquiries directed at them.

Only Vera spoke at the table. Stanley kept his face a few inches above his plate, while she fielded questions. She would end most sentences with the phrase, "Isn't that right, Stanley?" Stanley would mumble his agreement or smile, and then go back to his previous posture. Vera had divulged that they had a home, and she said that she'd decided to accompany her husband on one of his long trips to see a bit of the country. No details about where they'd come from were given, and she never let herself be baited into giving information either. Ben chuckled as he thought about the many times Mrs. Stauffer had tried and failed. Grace would say something about the Winters, intentionally using wrong information, while hoping Vera would correct her. Ben didn't pry. He figured there was something behind all her concealment, but it wasn't his affair. The couple had money; that was obvious by their nice clothes and her jewelry. Ben thought they were probably traveling to get a good look at the country, just as Vera had said. But he also thought that they might have fabricated a more ordinary life so others wouldn't try to take advantage of their prosperity.

His thoughts turned from home to work as he neared the harbor. One final thought raised the hair on the back of his neck as he wondered if Adam's stuffy nose might have indicated that he was coming down with a similar illness to Grace's. He considered a hasty trip to the dock to let them know he wouldn't be staying, before returning home, but he was able to shake off his unease when he remembered that Grace hadn't complained of any sniffles this morning or the night before, and Adam had been right; he did get congested when he played in the weeds and grass across the street.

 **Two**

"Please hurry, Vera. I want to be far away before anyone realizes we're gone."

The middle-aged woman glanced over her shoulder, giving her husband a scathing look before turning back to stuff the last of the little boy's clothing into her basket. "I'm done," she sighed, and then spat, "It might have gone faster had you lent a hand, Stanley, instead of chiding _me_ about hurrying." Her tone calmed. "The poor child only has a few changes of clothing and a couple toys." Vera handed off the basket of clothes. "Take this and the things from our room down to the wagon, and then get the boy from the yard. I'll go tell Grace that we're going out for a ride and a picnic, and then we'll get away from here…" An eerie smile turned her lips as she chuckled. "We'll have plenty of time to disappear."

Stanley Winters bowed at the shoulders and offered a quick apology for questioning her speed, before retrieving the satchels from their room and getting them secured to the buggy. He went around the back of house and squatted down next to the curly-haired, four-year-old who was digging in the soft dirt of the garden. "What're ya making, son?"

The child looked up, his eyes blazing with colors as the sun illuminated patches of brown, sprinkled with varying shades of green and gold. "It's the canal. It has to be four feet deep, so the barges can get to the docks by my papa."

"I see," he replied, but he really didn't "see." This child had always amazed and amused him. He was barely four, but he spoke fluidly, using words one wouldn't expect from one so young. But speaking was only part of his talent. The child could read…and not just children's books. He could look at a newspaper and decipher most of the words in a paragraph. Stanley allowed himself a moment of peacockery as he imagined himself at the boy's side, taking great pride in having helped shape his genius when he was recognized for his scholastic achievement one day.

The one thing that bothered Stanley was that he wasn't really sure what to do with this little one's intelligence. Neither he nor his wife was smart. They managed fine, but they rarely read anything more than a paper, and even that left him stymied at times. He also knew that they had no curiosity about how things were made or worked, like this youngster had. The child listened during mealtime discussions at the boarding house, and often politely asked others to explain if he didn't understand what they were talking about.

He and Vera had married when they were 30. She'd tended to her sick mother before then, and he'd lived off an inheritance, and took sales jobs when he got too bored with his leisure. Vera had seemed a nice woman…at first, but her mother had been in the throes of delirium by the time she'd died at age 50, and as their marriage had gone on, he'd sometimes wondered if Vera might be heading toward the same affliction. Then again, there was something else bothering his wife.

They'd wanted children, and Vera's desperation had grown as her years of waiting had multiplied. They were in their 40's now, and Vera's doctor had advised adopting a child many years ago.

Stanley had liked the idea of picking out a baby boy they could raise as their own, but when he'd suggested going to a local orphanage, she'd hissed, "That won't do. You don't know what you're getting with an orphaned baby. They might be cute when they're little, but they may have had ugly parents…or stupid ones…and they will turn into homely, unintelligent children." As inconceivable as it had seemed, she'd convinced him to close their house in Akron two years ago and leave on a trek to find the perfect child they could call their own. Stanley's money had ensured that they'd been able to live comfortably as they'd gone from town-to-town in Ohio, staying at different boarding houses for his "sales job"…while trying to find the right child in the right circumstance…or more appropriately, the wrong circumstances.

Vera had vowed that she would never take a child from a loving home, but she'd had no trouble finding several she'd decreed were "stuck" with bad parents who were struggling to meet their obligations and obviously didn't have their child's "best interests" at heart. After several tries…and even after observing their circumstances for a bit to make sure the parents were suitably good looking, had no deformity, and seemed intelligent, they had found nary a babe who maintained Vera's high standards once she'd had them. He'd finally convinced her to call off the search and head home when providence had stepped in.

He'd agreed to spend the winter at a boarding house in Cleveland for one last attempt to find a child in a bigger city. Stanley had one customer there he could call on, and as winter blew in, so did a widower and his young son. The child's father was a handsome, strong man who worked at the docks six-days-a-week, while leaving the boy in the care of the house proprietress. Vera had quickly focused on the smart, attractive, and mannerly son. She'd soon begun to talk of "rescuing" him from his lonely life and the certain neglect he'd face should his father really take him on the long wagon trip to the western wilderness as he'd talked about. She'd decided that this was the "right child," but she'd shown great restraint in observing him until spring had colored in the drab grays and browns of winter with green before making plans to remove him from the care of his "impoverished, unloving, and careless father."

A few days ago Vera had declared the timing was right to move ahead, and she'd set things in motion last night at dinner. It was going so well that Stanley began to believe that they could accomplish this without anyone being aware of the loss until it was too late to act. He'd even convinced himself that this boy was meant to be theirs. This gave him hope that Vera would finally find peace in this matter.

But in the back of Stanley's mind hid the nagging suspicion that Vera would never be at peace about anything. She was always worried about what she didn't have instead of looking at all she possessed. His biggest fear was that even if she crossed a child off her list of "must haves," it wouldn't make her ledger page any shorter; it would simply give her room to add something new. He dreaded that this would be like the house and furnishings she'd had to have; the dresses and finery she'd spent a small fortune to possess, and the babies she'd made him take because they were perfect, and then had immediately tired of once she'd had them.

He pushed his concerns aside, and said, "C'mon, son." Stanley took the boy's small hand and pulled him up. "Your mother isn't going to be happy about you being dirty, but we'll draw a bucket of water and get you cleaned up. Then we'll go for a ride in the buggy to get out of the house for a while. You'll like that, won't you?"

The little boy examined Stanley as his eyebrows rose in question, but he finally nodded. "Can we go by the canal?"

"Sure," Stanley lied. "Maybe we'll go down to the harbor too."

 **Three**

Adam remained quiet on the buggy ride through the streets. He and his father often took walks together in the evening and he recognized the first few blocks they passed. But the familiar had been left behind and they were heading into the country now. He pulled on Stanley's sleeve and pointed to his right. "We're going south, but the canal is that way."

"What's he talking about?" Vera asked her husband.

Stanley hunched his shoulders. "I sort'a told him we were going to take him to the canal for a picnic so he'd come without a fuss."

The look Vera sent Stanley should have burned a hole in his felt hat. "Why'd you do a fool thing like that?" she hissed. "You know we don't have time." Her tone softened as she turned to the little boy between them. "We're not going to the canal today, but our house is close to it, so you'll get to see it all the time now that you'll be living with us."

"Living with you," Adam repeated with a nervous squeak. "Papa didn't say we were moving."

Vera reached over to grab the reins from her husband and stopped the horse. "I'd planned to say this later, but I think it's time." She pulled the child onto her lap, and clucked at him when he stiffened with her touch. "Relax, darling, you'll have to get used to me holding you now that I'm your mother."

The child's brows narrowed as his face puckered in a deep scowl. "You're not my mother."

She patted his knee. "I'm not your real mother, but your father asked me and Stanley to take care of you." She sighed and continued as Adam's head moved from side-to-side, and his face fused to a granite-like glare. "Your father has been talking with us ever since you two moved into the boarding house, and today he said we should take you and leave. He doesn't have the time or money to care for you properly, and he felt that we would do a better job of giving you what a little boy needs."

It was barely a whisper. "I only need my Papa."

"You feel that way now, dear, but you'll change your mind when you see our nice house. You'll have your own room with lots of toys and new clothes."

His voice was less timid. "I don't want new clothes. I want my Papa!"

Vera grabbed his shoulders and held them firmly. "Your father can't support you and doesn't want you anymore. You should thank the stars that Stanley and I took you instead of letting you go on living like a wharf-rat with that man who has nothing to offer you but dreams." She watched as the defiant look left, and was replaced briefly by a squint of confusion. She seized the moment. "There...I think you understand why you're here." She shot Adam a disdainful look of victory, and continued even as his face returned to its stone-like countenance. "There are a few more things you'll need to have straight before we get home tomorrow. Your name from now on is Junior. Your last name is Freemont. I know you think our name is Winters, but it's not." She cackled loudly before grabbing his chin and raising it so he was looking directly at her. "We just told people it was Winters so they wouldn't find us. So…what's your name?"

"Adam Cartwright. My papa is Ben Cartwright."

She squeezed his cheeks tightly, making his lips pucker. "I know you're only four, but I also know you're a smart little boy, so I suggest you do as I say, or you won't like living with us very much."

Stanley had held his breath throughout his wife's explanation, hoping that the child would do as he was told. What he saw in this young boy's eyes made him shiver. He'd seen the brief display of uncertainty and fear, but that was gone. Now there was defiance. Not the defiance of some kids who did things out of spite, but the kind that came from being pretty sure that someone was telling you a lie and you weren't going to accept it no matter how many times or ways it was told. Stanley knew this did not bode well. Vera didn't like anyone standing up to her, and she would cut this child down to size just as surely as she'd done to him.

A sad grin slipped across his lips when a recurring memory entered his thoughts. He'd seen an old friend when he was out for a walk at the beginning of this odyssey with his wife. The friend had looked him over and said he'd remembered Stanley as being taller. That had made him wonder, and when he'd gotten home, he'd stood behind Vera while she'd been peering in a mirror. What he saw had confirmed the statement. At one time, the top of his wife's head had only come up to his shoulder. But their reflection had revealed that she now reached his ear. He'd speculated that perhaps she cut him down with her sharp tongue so frequently that he was truly shorter. It was true in a way. With a closer look, he'd realized he was stooping at the shoulders…exhibiting the posture of a beaten man.

Vera's father had been so deformed from stooping by the time he'd died that they'd had to turn him sideways in his coffin. Stanley had thought an illness had bowed the man's back, but now he wondered if the weight of his mother-in-law's constant harping had been too heavy to carry while standing erect. Mrs. Harper, Vera's mother, had been the original, but Vera was quickly becoming far more demanding, demeaning, and crazy than her mother had ever been, and her increasing dissatisfaction with everything was causing the same disfigurement in Stanley that he'd seen in her father.

Stanley shivered again, and sat just a bit straighter, deciding that if this child was to be his son, he was not going to pass this spinal deformity to another generation. He touched Adam's knee. "I know this is a lot to take in today, but you need to trust us. We just want the best for you. How's about we just start calling you, son, for today, and let that settle a bit before we make any more changes."

Vera smiled eerily at her husband. "That was sweet, Stanley, but we _will_ call him Junior starting right now. There's no sense in putting this off. And there's something else. He has to start calling us mother and father, so the neighbors don't wonder about him."

Stanley treaded into deeper water, knowing he risked drowning. "We have few neighbors, dear, and if anyone cares enough to ask, I think that maybe we'd be best off saying that we're raising the boy for a widowed friend who was unable to care for him. They won't think twice about it if there's confusion in the names should…Junior…get it wrong. And they won't wonder what's going on…if…he should tell them about his 'real' father. I know you'd like everyone to think the child is ours, but we've only been gone two years, and they'd gossip more about how we could have a four-year-old." He thought a moment and ended with something he knew would appeal to his wife's sensibilities. "Besides, they will consider you a noble person for rescuing him from a tragic situation."

"Since when do you 'think,' Stanley?" she snapped at him.

He looked again at Adam, and knew his assessment of this child's will was correct. He sat up straighter, looked Vera in the eyes, and spoke in as forceful a voice as he could muster. "If you wanted to change everything about the boy, then we should have taken a younger child. You didn't want a baby this time because they were too much work. But now you've chosen a child who _will_ remember where he came from." He gave her a toady smile as his backbone weakened again, and his shoulders bowed further toward his feet while he tried to placate her. "He'll forget his past someday, but we have to understand that right now he's unhappy about it being taken from it. It will be best if we take small steps with…recreating him."

Vera's chin rose as her posture stiffened. "I'll school him at home, and never let him out alone…and as far as the rest…" She thought about it. "I think it might be best to say he's adopted from a terrible situation. That should stop people from asking questions, and if he says anything, they'll think the poor boy was lied to by his father."

Stanley breathed a deep sigh of relief that was instantly shattered when Vera began speaking again.

"But I still want to change his name." Her eyes drifted dreamily as she smiled. "I always wanted a little boy to name Junior, and now I have him." She kissed Adam's cheek, but he pulled away and scowled at her, causing Vera's moment of sweet motherhood to evaporate as quickly as the kiss on the little boy's face. "Young man, you will not be allowed out of the house until you learn to act respectfully toward us. Your ingratitude toward me…us…for saving you from the heartless man who was raising you, will stop this minute. If I have to remind you of it again, there will be serious consequences!"

Stanley lifted Adam from his wife's lap and deposited him between them again. "I'll have a talk with him later, but we need to get moving now. I'd like to make it to that abandoned farm, and get us settled before dark."

 **Four**

Ben crossed the street and headed toward the back yard of the boarding house, hoping to sneak up and surprise Adam. Mrs. Stauffer had harvested an early crop of spinach from a corner of her garden patch, and she let Adam dig there to his heart's content. Most days Ben found him happily "building" some sort of project. It was usually a canal, but sometimes there were roads, and houses made from stacked twigs. The proud father wondered what he'd find today, and stopped short when he saw the empty yard.

He'd had misgivings about leaving him with Vera, but he'd convinced himself that a day away from work would put less cash in their traveling fund. He'd had to trust others to help him after Mrs. Callahan had gone back to Boston, and it had always gone well. Still, there was "something" about Vera that had always seemed off, and he wondered if he should have followed his instincts.

His shook off his concern, and redirected his walk to the kitchen door where he found Grace bustling around the kitchen. "You look a lot better than you did this morning," he said as he took a deep breath. "Smells like stew for dinner."

"You're right on both accounts," Grace laughed. "I sure don't know what hit me, but it passed as suddenly as it came. And with Vera taking over, I got a good long rest this morning."

"I'm glad you're recovered," He gave her a quick hug as he asked, "Where's that boy of mine? I expected he'd be out in the yard, covered in dirt and needing a bath like usual."

Grace stopped her dinner preparations. "Did you get home early, Ben?"

"I expect it's the same time as always. Why do you ask?"

Her smile was replaced by a worried frown as she glanced up at the clock. "The afternoon got away from me. Hmmm, I didn't realize it was this late."

Her worried tone infected Ben. "Where _is_ Adam?"

Her laugh was tinged with anxiety. "Vera came to my room late this morning and said she and Stanley had gotten their buggy from the livery so they could take Adam for a picnic. She said that way I would have peace and quiet to sleep." She looked down and picked at a dried spot of food on her apron. "I'm surprised they're not back yet." Grace hurried into the front room and checked the street for a buggy. When she turned to Ben her hands were fluttering around her face. "I'm sure everything is just fine. It's probably that your son was having such a good time…."

"Did she mention where they were going?" Ben tried to keep his tone calm even as his heart raced and his stomach turned with the certainty that something was wrong. "Perhaps they had trouble with the rig, and I could head over that way and see if they need help."

Her eyes dropped back to the spot on her apron as she scrubbed at it with her nail. "Uh, I was feeling so poorly at the time I didn't think to ask…." The other boarders were starting to come down for supper, and Grace smiled weakly as she suggested that Ben go join them. "By the time you eat, everyone will be home, safe and sound."

 **Five**

They'd seen the deserted homestead while planning their escape route for when they "rescued" Adam. It had seemed a reasonable distance they could travel in a half-day, and far enough off the road that no one would notice their buggy once it was behind the house. Stanley's only fear was that someone else might be squatting there now. Abandoned farms were not unusual in the area, and people often took up residence wherever there was the opportunity to do so. Life was tough for those trying to scratch a living from the earth. There'd been recent dry spells that had withered crops when they'd been half grown, and most commerce had been done by bartering, so it had been nearly impossible for farmers to get cash to buy better equipment or invest in their land and buildings.

The canal project had been funded a few years ago, and there'd been real money offered for workers. The lure of cash had taken many from the fields. They'd left their homes behind with hopes of returning one day with the resources to get them in working order again.

Stanley left his wife and Adam in a grove of trees and snuck toward the house to observe. He breathed with relief as he saw that the house was still uninhabited. It was in disrepair while still being a sound enough structure to provide a comfortable shelter for the night. He had looked around during their previous stop, so he knew there was still some furniture inside to use. Vera didn't like to camp, but she didn't want to stop at an inn with the boy, just in case his father was lucky enough to start looking in the right direction. He headed back to get his family as he thought about how much work it would take to get the living space up to Vera's standards even for one night. But it was early enough that he felt he'd have time to clear out a suitable nest.

"C'mon, Junior." He lifted Adam from the wagon after they stopped in the yard. "Let's see about getting this nag settled in the barn, and we'll go inside and see what we can do."

Once the horse was tied in a stall, and they were out of earshot of the woman in the buggy, Adam pulled on Stanley's coat and whispered, "My name is Adam."

Stanley took the boy's hand and led him to the house, brushing away cobwebs as they walked inside. "I know your name is Adam, son, but you'll be living with us now, and Vera would like to call you by a name that she chose." He looked around to make sure his wife hadn't followed them, although he knew it was unlikely that she'd get her hands dirty helping. "When Vera decides something, you're not going to change her mind, so your life will be easier if you go along with what she wants. I'll spend as much time as I can with you, and make sure you have some fun, but please be nice to Vera…even if you have to pretend at first. You know what pretending is?

Adam nodded. "Acting like something is true, when it really isn't."

"That's right. Maybe you can act like Vera's your mother. Then one day, you'll forget your pa and we'll really be your parents."

"I'll never forget my papa…" Adam's voice trailed off.

"I know you miss your father, but he will have an easier time without you. A child should have a mother and a father. And you know how your pa had to leave you with Mrs. Stauffer all the time. Well, she was just a stranger, and you shouldn't have to be with a stranger all day."

Adam tipped his head as his eyes narrowed. "You're a stranger too."

Stanley was taken aback. "We won't be strangers for long. Pretty soon, you'll like being with us. Besides, your pa gave you away."

"I don't think so."

The man marveled that he was having a conversation with a four-year-old. He didn't know much about kids, but he thought that when they were this young they kept quiet and did what you told them. Yet, this one seemed to reason things out and make decisions. Stanley's worry began to percolate again. Vera had chosen this child because of his intelligence and grit, but Stanley was already wondering if she would be able to force her choice into submission. The burning in his gut continued as he wondered how long this adventure would last. If Adam didn't play along and do as she demanded, her interest in him would deplete as rapidly as it had with the crying babies that she'd had no desire to tend to. He hoped he could help Adam understand and comply before it was too late.

"You seem pretty sure of yourself," Stanley replied. "What makes you think he didn't tell us to take you?"

"Because when I go to sleep he always says…" Adam looked away.

He took the boy's shoulder gently and pulled him closer. "What does he say? I'd like to know."

He blinked several times, until he said softly, "He says, 'We'll be together,' and I say, 'forever.'" Then he says, 'That's right…the Cartwright men will be together forever. Papa doesn't lie"

The man's heart twisted as he thought about what he and his wife had done. A remembrance of his own childhood flashed through his mind. He'd been raised by an aunt after his own mother had died when he was twelve. His father had been a successful businessman, and they'd been wealthy enough to have servants to do the household chores and see to his needs. It had been that way throughout his mother's long illness, so Stanley hadn't expected anything to change after her passing. But one day he'd been taken to spend the "weekend" with his Aunt Wilma. His father had told him he needed to be out of town for an extended period, and he'd come back for him as soon as he returned. The man had never come. He had written with promises that this was a "temporary solution," but as the months had turned to years, there had been no more pretense of him returning. The promises had changed to assurances that his father would come for Christmas or birthdays…. Those days had also passed without Mordecai Freemot showing up. Stanley had snuck away from his aunt's when he was 15, and he'd gone to his father's house. Mordecai had been there…with his new wife and baby. He'd known then that Mordecai Freemont had been a gutless man who hadn't wanted to be bothered with the child of a dead woman. The only thing Stanley's father had _ever_ done for him had been to leave him a hefty sum of cash in his will. He suspected it had been Mordecai's way of showing that he'd had some regrets over his actions.

Watching Ben and Adam together at the boarding house had touched his heart. Ben kept his son at his side despite lacking the resources that Mordecai had possessed. And Stanley knew the promise Ben had made to Adam about being "together forever" was going to be kept. Ben would keep looking until he found his son. Luckily it was a big country, and he figured Ben would have to be very lucky and do a lot of searching to find them before Adam was grown.

Stanley had tried to dissuade Vera from taking Adam because of the devotion between father and son, but she had been convincing when she'd assured him that Ben Cartwright was a fraud who liked the attention that Adam brought. She'd said that one day he'd tire of the charade and take off, leaving the little boy behind just like Stanley's father. Over time, her rationale had begun to seem reasonable, and he'd let himself believe that Adam would be better off with them. He'd truly liked the idea of having a chance to be a father. But now as Stanley saw the fierce belief in Adam's eyes, he knew that none of what Vera had said was true, and he had to decide what to do about it.

 **Six**

Ben couldn't eat. He kept staring at the empty chair next to him, and worried even as others gave their encouragement that things were "fine."

Grace tried to act unaffected by the extended absence, but she was a bundle of nerves. She'd dropped things as she'd brought the meal to the table, and was breathing so fast that she felt dizzy. She let out a shriek when she felt someone touch her shoulder, and turned to see Ben, whose face mirrored her own frazzled appearance.

"I'd like you to come upstairs with me, so I can go through Vera and Stanley's things. Maybe there's a receipt from the livery they use, and I can go there and find out when they're expected back."

The two self-proclaimed detectives stared at each other and then back into the room after Grace opened the door. Drawers were open and emptied of their contents, and there were no personal items remaining on the dresser or wash stand. Ben hurried to his room and realized that Adam's few things were missing too. His knees buckled and he sat hard on his bed, covering his face with his hands as the seriousness of the situation sunk in. When he looked up again he said, "Why would they take my boy?"

Grace shook her head. The paralysis that froze her with the understanding of what must have happened left her as she went to the grieving man's side and touched his shoulder. I'll send someone to the police station to get my son. He's working now."

Ben relocated to the parlor while Grace sent a young boarder to get help. She returned with a glass of brown liquid. "Here, drink this. You've had a shock, and you're pale as a ghost." She waited for him to drink the whiskey and then moved a footstool over to sit in front of him. "I know you want to go out looking for them, but they left by buggy hours ago, so they could be miles away by now. It's best to wait until we talk to Harry. He's as good a policeman as you'll find. They made him into something called an inspector, so we'll let him do his job. When he finds them, you can go beat the tar out of those two and bring Adam home."

He managed a sad grin before returning to the haunted look that gave outward expression to his thoughts. He tried to recall any instances where the couple had given an indication that they were capable of kidnapping a child. He had no money, and since that was common knowledge at the boarding house, it couldn't be about ransom. The other possibilities left him sick. Ben pushed those thoughts from his mind and drained his glass. "Maybe Harry will have heard something about a kidnapping ring or have an idea where they might be headed."

"I do hope so." She twisted at her apron as she considered whether to confide something that had been lurking in the back of her mind since hearing of the delayed return. "Uh, Ben, maybe you should know this…."

He tipped his head as his brows neared. "What's that, Grace?"

"Do you remember at last night's supper when Vera told me to rest while she got desert?" He nodded. "I thought it strange that after all the months they've been here; she was suddenly concerned about me working too hard. Vera enjoyed being waited on hand and foot…but I _was_ tired, and accepted her offer."

Ben shook his head. "Does this connect to her taking Adam?"

"It might. When Ginny Olsen got home today, she told me that she'd gone through the kitchen to get to the privy last night while Vera was in there, and she saw her sprinkling something on one of the pie slices. She thought it was a little extra sugar for Stanley. But she doesn't like Vera and after I got so sick, she began to wonder if it wasn't something added to my pie that made me feel that way."

His eyes opened wide as he considered this news. "It would explain why only you were ill. And it provided her with privacy to clear out today. It was the perfect plan, since no one here would be the wiser until they were long gone." Ben moaned as he closed his eyes. "And I handed Adam to her, thinking she was being kind."

"We had no way of knowing what she was up to," Grace soothed. "She wasn't a likable person, but she didn't seem evil either. Then again, she never lent a hand, and she wasn't outgoing, so I should have guessed something was off when she was so unlike herself today." She shook her head. "Isn't that the way with evil though… It looks pleasant and draws you in until its ugliness shows itself in a terrifying way."

 **Seven**

Stanley looked around the space he'd made in the ramshackle farmhouse, and patted Adam's shoulder. "I think we've done some good work here, Junior. It's not home, but it'll do for a night." He noted Adam cringe at the name, and he crouched to look the boy in the eyes. "Remember how you agreed to pretend about things for now? If Vera…your mother…sees that face you just made when she calls you Junior, it won't go well for you. Do you understand?"

He wasn't sure that Adam did understand, but the child nodded, and he accepted that. The little boy had actually helped greatly in getting the house ready for occupancy. He'd held the dust pan when Stanley swept, and he'd pounded dust from the straw mattress and helped put on the sheets that Vera had taken from the boarding house, saying they'd surely paid for them over the months they'd stayed there. Stanley looked outside and saw Vera sitting in the buggy making notes on a small pad of paper she kept in her purse. She'd directed their efforts from her perch, but hadn't lifted a finger to help.

"Run out and tell your mother that everything is ready inside. We'll have those sandwiches we brought along, and then turn in." He spotted Adam's dubious look, and encouraged him. "If you can't call her mother; say Ma'am for now. I think she'll want to take your hand as she walks to the house, so don't make any faces when she does. Just keep pretending so we can have a pleasant evening." Stanley wanted to add that an "unpleasant" evening with Vera was something to be avoided at all costs. He gave Adam a push when he lingered at his side. "Go on now. It'll be dark soon and I want to be well settled by then."

Stanley finished putting away the remainder of their dinner and swept the crumbs from the table, tossing them out the door. "We'll do our business outside as soon as I'm done, Junior, and then you can change for bed."

"Where will I sleep?" The voice was timid.

Stanley pointed to a pile of blankets he'd brought in and set near the bed. "That should be comfortable enough. The mattresses at Grace's boarding house weren't much softer than the floor anyway." The comment elicited a smile from the youngster…the first such expression…and Stanley wondered if maybe this could work after all.

"About that…." Vera had sat on the bed, and gave the small room a contemptuous once-over. "This cabin is pretty small. I've had a taxing day, and I will need to rest thoroughly for tomorrow. I can't abide your snoring or Junior's sniveling, as I'm sure he'll do as he tries to fall asleep, so I think it would be best if you two sleep in the barn tonight. I could see inside and there's plenty of hay. You can use those blankets to cover it."

He kept his voice calm and bowed his head in a groveling gesture. "We've worked hard to clean up in here, and it's too dark to see enough get a place ready for us."

Vera's tone was withering. " _I know_ you worked hard. I can smell the sweat and dust on the two of you from across the room. You know I am very sensitive to such odors, so you'll have to make do. The barn didn't look that dirty; just sleep in your clothes and wrap up in those covers. We'll get to our house tomorrow and you can both have a hot bath before you come inside." She rose and walked regally toward the door. "I would like Junior to give me a kiss before he leaves. I'm sure tomorrow will be much happier day." She put her arms out and waited for Adam to comply.

Stanley could feel the tenseness in the boy's shoulder as he gave him a nudge forward. "Go on, son. Kiss your mother goodnight." When Adam didn't move, he bent down and whispered, "Pretend, son, like we talked about."

When the child still didn't move fast enough, Vera closed the distance and tugged him roughly toward her. "Your former father used to take you to church and read the Bible to you, didn't he?" Adam nodded. "Isn't there a commandment about respecting your parents?" She pinched his shoulder. "Isn't it a sin when you don't obey your parents?" Her pitch was rising as she insisted, "Isn't it?"

Adam looked up and said, "I obey my papa." He thought a moment and added, "It's also bad to steal or want what isn't yours. Papa told me those commandments too."

Vera removed her hand from his shoulder and raised her arm, preparing to deliver a blow that would have knocked Adam across the room. But as she began the downward arc, Stanley grabbed her arm and held it firmly. "He's a smart child, Vera. You liked that about him, so don't punish him for it. I'm sure he's frightened and tired. Let him get some rest and we'll see what tomorrow brings."

She tugged her dress back into place and smoothed back the hair that had fallen in her face. "I suppose he will need some time. She bent down, bringing her cheek to Adam's level and pointed to it, "You can at least give me a kiss before you leave. I've seen you kiss Grace many times, so I know you're capable of doing it." Adam gave her a quick peck, and then rubbed his sleeve across his lips. "Was that so distasteful?" she asked with a snarl. She grabbed his chin and pulled his face up so she could see his eyes. "I'm giving you some leeway tonight because of what Stanley said, but _my_ child will be obedient in all things. Starting tomorrow, you'll find out just what that means." She waved the two males away while yawning. "Get going now. Oh, and Junior..." she grabbed the back of his shirt and held him as he tried to walk away. "Don't even think about running away or trying to get back to Cleveland. You have no idea where we are and you'd be eaten by wild animals or picked up by criminals who'd harm you if you're out there alone."

Stanley took Adam's hand and got him out of the house. As they walked to barn, he couldn't help wondering if this boy might just find his way home. He had paid attention as they'd driven, and there was just something about him that made him think he might know a lot more than they gave him credit for.

 **Eight**

Harry Stauffer was a large man with a ruddy complexion, a quick smile and an affable demeanor. He'd listened to his mother's story of the absent boarders and the missing son while eating oatmeal cookies and washing them down with coffee. "You're sure they took him?" he asked after she finished. "Maybe the boy ran off or something happened to him while this Vera was watching him and she left, saying she was taking him out with her rather than staying to tell you what really happened."

Ben paled. "That's something I hadn't thought of, but your mother and I feel Vera was up to something today. She'd always seemed overly interested in Adam, although she'd never volunteered to care for him before. Then today she was almost giddy over the opportunity."

"What do you mean by 'interested,' Mr. Cartwright?"

He had to think about it. "She constantly asked questions about him and was very impressed with how young he was when he first walked and spoke. She'd often ask him to read something for her; I think she wanted to be sure I wasn't exaggerating. He was a novelty for her. And lately, she corrected his table manners and gave me stern looks when he did something she didn't approve of."

Harry asked his mother for a refill of his coffee. "None of that seems out of the ordinary, Mr. Cartwright. My mother has told me many a tale about your youngster since you moved in."

Ben sighed as he nodded. "It doesn't _sound_ odd when I say it. I think you'd have had to be around her to know why it felt unnatural. Adam is a gifted and articulate child, and that does bring him a lot of attention." He thought again for a way to explain. "All of Grace's boarders are willing to share bits and pieces of their lives at the dinner table. Vera never shared anything and only asked questions of me. She had no interest in the others, and she would follow me into the parlor after dinner and continue the inquisition while ignoring everyone else. I frequently reminded her that there were others in the room, and then I'd change the subject. She'd go to her room as soon as the rest of us began talking.

Grace returned, carefully balancing a full cup of coffee as she walked. "That's true, Harry. I noticed the same thing as soon as Ben and Adam moved in. It wasn't as bad at first, but she kept repeating her questions over time, almost as if she was expecting that Ben had lied about some of his son's accomplishments and she was waiting for him to slip up. Lately," Grace nodded toward Ben as she positioned herself behind her son and leaned on the back of the sofa, "her conversations had moved toward Ben's long hours at work and his plans to head west toward the wilderness with Adam. I remember her mouth pinching together when she'd mention that it was a shame that Adam had to be 'alone' all day…like I wasn't watching him." She drew her shoulders back as she harrumphed. "I even corrected her once when she said that, telling her that I made sure the boy was well cared for, so there was no need for her to worry about him."

Harry sipped his coffee while eying Ben over the edge of the cup. "Is it possible that she thought you weren't being a good father? Did you holler at your son, spank him, or neglect his needs in a way that would make her think it was in his best interest to take him?" He never saw the slap coming from behind, but his mother's swat was hard enough to make his ear pop, and his coffee slosh into the saucer. "Why'd you do that, Ma?" he whined.

"I always cuffed you one when you were out of line, and I'm not gonna stop because you're grown up." She kissed the top of his head as she cooed over him, and smiled at Ben whose look of outrage at the question had softened with her action. "Ben Cartwright is the best parent I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. He spends as much time with Adam as he can, and even though the boy is naturally smart, someone had to teach him the things he knows. It kills Ben to leave him every morning, but he works so he can provide for the child and give them a future." She wiped a stray tear from her cheek with her apron. "That little boy adores his father and when Ben gets home, the two of them are inseparable."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cartwright. I have to explore all possibilities, but you have a strong ally in my mother, so I'll take her word that you are a good parent." He tapped his foot. "Still you are gone many hours every day, and perhaps this woman convinced herself that was enough to make you a bad father. I'm leaning toward her thinking she was doing a kindness for a child with an absent parent."

Grace sat next to her son. "You're forgetting that I was 'absent,' as you put it, when you were growing up. Your pa had died, and I worked for others until I could afford to turn this house into a rooming place. And I don't think I gave you half the attention Ben gives Adam when I finally got home. You turned out just fine staying with your grandma and neighbors, and I love Adam like my own, so I know he's happy and doing fine."

Ben had finally calmed his anger enough to comment. "Thank you Grace, I know you love my son and he feels the same about you. We both appreciate all that you do for us." He turned his attention to the inspector. "And what you said may have some merit, Harry. Vera and Stanley might have 'thought' they were doing me or Adam a favor. But if they thought I wasn't a good parent, they should have talked to me about it, or alerted the authorities—not run off with him. There's something wrong here that goes far beyond what it may 'seem' to be."

"I agree." Harry took a pad of paper from his pocket and began to make notes as he asked Ben and Grace go over the events of the day again. "Do you really think she poisoned you, Ma?" he asked when she repeated her suspicions.

"I do, son." She took a sudden breath and blanched. "Remember how I just said that I told her that I took good care of the boy…well, I suppose she figured she had to get me out of the way to be able to do her dirty deed. That sickness laid me out good, and I'm just glad she didn't give me too much or I wouldn't be here."

Ben had begun pacing with the recap. "Have there been kidnappings like this before?" he asked.

"Lots of kids go missing, Mr. Cartwright. Sometimes they just wander off or run away and we find them a few blocks away, tired, hungry and scared. Then there are reports of kidnapping that are given after someone notices that a child is absent from a family. Those usually turn out to be cases where a youngster was sent away to work for someone at a young age and the family receives money for them or at least ends up with one less mouth to feed. And finally there are the children who are taken for sinister purposes. We usually don't find those kids unless their bodies turn up somewhere."

Ben gasped while Grace slumped back on the couch.

"I'm sorry to be so indelicate, but if this wasn't a kidnapping by someone who wanted a child, then I need to warn you that it isn't likely to be a happy outcome. But at least we have something to go on."

What do we do now?" Ben stopped pacing long enough to wait for an answer.

" _'We_ ' don't do anything, Mr. Cartwright. I'll go over this with my commander. We'll get men out asking questions." He sighed. "You're sure they never let slip where they were from?"

Ben answered. "Never. Your mother did a good job trying to pry it from them, but Stanley never spoke without his wife's approval, and Vera dodged questions like a boxer dodges punches."

"I admit I'm beginning to agree that there's a lot of oddness going on. People who are so secretive usually have something to hide. If that's true, I wonder if they even used their real names."

Grace drew another sharp breath. "I think their first names were right, but when they first got here, I called her Mrs. Winters and it always took a while before she'd respond. It was like she didn't realize I was talking to her."

Ben groaned at this new information. "What can I do, Harry?"

"You and Ma should keep going over everything you can remember about the pair and let me know if you recall more. Go through their room again and see if anything might have gotten wedged behind a drawer, fallen out of a pocket or kicked under the bed. You don't see everything the first time through. I'd help with that but I want to head back and get started. Question the other boarders too; maybe they'll have overheard her saying something to her husband that could be a clue."

"That's it?" Ben frowned. "I'd like to help search."

"We don't know where to look yet, so you'll be best here, Ben." He smiled up at his mother's boarder. "May I call you Ben?" Receiving a nod, he continued, "I'll keep you informed of anything we find, and when we have something, you can come with us. Go to work tomorrow. Tell them what's happened; talk to the barge and ship captains, and ask that they do a little searching for you when they get back home. You never know where the important clue will come from."

 **Nine**

Adam waited until they were away from the house, and then stopped. His eyes were wide as he confided, "I saw rats in that barn when we put the horse in there."

Stanley smiled down at the youngster, marveling that after all that had happened to him today, rats in the barn were the thing bringing the boy to the brink of tears. "I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we should sleep under that big tree in the yard instead?"

"Will Ma'am mind?" Adam's voice quivered a bit with the threatening tears.

"Vera won't care where we are as long as we're not inside." Stanley found a patch of grass at the base of the tree, and quickly assembled a jumble of blankets to sleep on while he sent Adam to the shadows to relieve himself. "That's not too bad," he remarked after they'd hunkered into the bedding. "It's a warm night and I don't see any clouds, so we should have a good sleep." He tucked the top blanket around Adam's shoulders. "Are you comfortable?" He smiled in the dark, noting how the child was curled up as far away from him as possible while still remaining on the blanket. "You can snuggle in a little closer, son. I won't bite, and I'll feel better if I know you're safe."

Adam stayed put…until an owl screeched overhead as it flew into a neighboring tree. He inched backwards with every noise that broke the stillness, until he was closer. Stanley found his heart moved again by the innocence of this child curled up next to him. He wished Vera had been able to have a baby; maybe things would have been different then. She'd always been picky and demanding, but she'd never displayed the evil he saw in her the last few years. What they'd done again today was wrong. Yet living with the increasingly volatile woman had dulled his conscience to right and wrong, and somewhere over time he'd decided it was easier to let her have her way than to stand tall and fight back. But today they'd crossed that line once more, and this time there was no turning back. They'd stolen an older child, and Vera had constructed a new lie she thought should cover the sin. He thought again about his reflection and decided he'd lost a lot more than a few inches of height. He'd lost his way, and in giving in to her, he was equally culpable for the damage they'd done. This little boy next to him had managed to ignite an ember of goodness remaining in Stanley's soul, and in his moment of self-confession, he felt his spine stiffen as it had in the buggy. He liked the way if felt. It brought strength to muscles and feelings he thought were long atrophied.

Some minutes had passed, but Stanley knew Adam was still awake because the boy kept wiggling. "Since you're not sleeping yet, son, I'd like you to ask you something I've wondered about all afternoon. How did you know we were going south? We'd gone through several streets and crossed the bridge out of the city by that time. I knew the route we had to take, but I never thought about what direction I was heading."

"Papa taught me." The small voice was proud. "He was a sailor, and he said that where we live in 'Merica, when you feel the sun full on your face, you're going south. If you're going north it's behind you. Once you know north and south, you can tell east and west. You have to watch for other things too or you can get turned 'round. I can tell best when it's lunch time. Pa can always tell...even when it's cloudy."

Stanley laughed quietly. "Are you sure you're only four? Grown men can't explain what you just did."

Adam rolled onto his back and held up four fingers. "I'm this old."

"You try to sleep now. Morning will come too soon." Stanley grinned as he got settled. One minute this youngster was explaining how to navigate, and the next he was holding up fingers for his age like any little one would do. It all seemed to fit this particular child though. He was a quick study who could understand what he heard, and repeat it correctly. There was more too. This little boy saw the truth with clarity. He'd seen this part of Adam in the response he'd given Vera about the Commandments. Adam knew exactly what this couple had done: coveted him and stolen him, and Stanley cringed at the truth that wedged its way into his soul.

The long, hard day seemed to be winding down easily with them both being tired and ready for sleep. That ended when Stanley saw Adam's shoulders moving jerkily, and he knew that his young charge was crying quietly. For a moment he thought he should comfort him, but he knew this child could only be comforted by one person…and _he_ wasn't that person. He kept watch in case the crying got worse, but he let the moment pass without comment, hoping it would stop once the boy's grief was released or he was too tired to continue. His instincts proved right, and the boy's chest was soon moving with the steady rhythm of sleep.

 **Ten**

Ben did as Harry had suggested and spread the news of Adam's disappearance at the docks. Most of the barge and boat captains wrote Vera and Stanley's names in their logs along with a description to alert all who handled the boats. These men worked on the water, but they had families in their home ports. They'd promised to have their wives and mothers spread the word for Ben, and he had no doubt that his son's predicament would soon be common news in any areas where these vessels were headed.

He continued to work during the day and haunt the precinct house at night to find out what Harry had learned. The young inspector had had immediately sent officers around the boarding house neighborhood. Those inquiries had confirmed that a little boy had been seen with the couple as they had driven down the street in the late morning. Unfortunately, eyewitness accounts ended on the main streets.

Harry had also sent letters to nearby communities inquiring about missing children, and his men had checked with innkeepers along the main roads leading from Cleveland. None of the establishments had served the "family" they were searching for.

It had been four days since the abduction, and Ben was sitting in the chair across from Harry's desk sipping coffee while Harry downed one of the sandwiches his mother had sent over for the two of them. "You're sure you're not hungry?"

"Can't say I've had much of an appetite since this started." Ben sighed deeply. "I keep picturing Adam, hoping that Vera is treating him well, but fearing that she isn't. It makes my stomach turn.

"What makes you think she won't be good to him?"

"It's a feeling. Or maybe it's the way she treated Stanley." He grinned at the man across the desk. "He was a very obedient man." The grin faded. "I suspect Vera expects people to act as she _wants_ them to, and while my son _is_ an obedient child, he also has a granite-hard Boston stubbornness…" the grin played again at the right corner of his lips…"from his mother's side of the family, mind you. He'll think through a situation, and he won't do something unless he understands exactly why he's being asked to do it. He'll want to know her reasoning, and then discuss the options."

"How old's your son?" Harry asked, chuckling.

"That's the problem. He's a little boy in every way except that he truly wants to understand. He isn't being 'willful'; it's just his way. He'll accept me saying, 'Because I'm telling you to do it this way,' as a 'reasonable explanation' when he isn't able to wrap his mind around my reckoning…or he senses that I'm getting unhappy about his continued questioning. But I can see his disappointment in not being able to figure everything out yet. We've had a number of conversations about his need to trust my judgment until he gets a little older."

"Maybe he'll be too afraid to question Vera and Stanley."

Ben laughed. "Fearlessness is part of that granite-like will of his, and while he'll be afraid, I don't think it will stifle his resolve to know why he's supposed to do something." A cloud of darkness descended over the worried father's face as his stomach lurched. "And if she's able to make him too afraid to be the child he is, then…" He stood abruptly and paced the room before returning to the Harry's desk.

The precinct captain walked toward them carrying a folder and asked Ben to sit as he began paging through the papers inside. "I've been working with Inspector Stauffer on your case, Mr. Cartwright, and it is a puzzling one." He sat on the corner of the desk, tapping the folder on his knee. "We don't get many instances of actual kidnapping, so I'd like you to tell us what really happened to your son."

Ben's cheeks blazed red, while his fists contracted menacingly. "Two people, who lived at the boarding house with us, took him. That's what _really_ happened."

"You reported that this woman never did anything objectionable to your boy. You imply that she was nosy and overly interested, but when I read this, I'd say it seems more like she was curious about him. My wife acts the same way when she meets a bright child, but she isn't looking to kidnap them. Isn't it more probable that you gave this couple an indication that your life would be easier without your son? Perhaps you even brokered a deal on the sly. Or maybe they took him because they thought it was in the child's best interest to get him away from you."

Ben slammed his fist on the desk so hard that the papers and blotter atop it bounced. "If that's what you think happened, then you are of no help to me, and I will find my son on my own. If," he sputtered, "if I had decided I couldn't raise my child alone, I could have sent him to relatives who would have taken him in. My brother offered to take Adam while I got back on my feet after his mother died. And Adam has a grandfather who would take him if I needed help. I wouldn't have to ask strangers to poison my landlady and take him away without a word."

The captain's face was unreadable as he spoke again. "And…perhaps your pride is too strong to admit to your family that you couldn't handle being a widower and a father, so you 'arranged' a kidnapping to let you look innocent of parental neglect."

Harry had been watching Ben's eye's…and fists…and he knew this scene wasn't going to end well. He rose while the captain was delivering his rebuttal, and wedged himself between the two men in time to grab Ben's arm before his fist connected with the captain's cheek. "Sit down, Ben," he suggested calmly as he strong-armed him down into his chair again.

The police captain grinned, and patted Ben on the shoulder. "I am sorry, Mr. Cartwright. My harsh accusations usually break the families who've done what I suggested, and the truth comes pouring out. I hate having to push anyone like that, but these are desperate times for many families, and they do desperate things." He nodded at the young inspector. "Harry has said that he doesn't doubt your story, and I don't either…now."

"So it was a test?" Ben's heart was pounding as his complexion returned to its natural shade.

"I'm afraid so. We've gotten very good at picking up false blustering as opposed to real pain and fear. You have the right answers, and your outrage was sincere. Again, I offer my apologies."

Ben looked from one policeman to the other. "So now what?"

Harry spoke. "I know you want answers, Ben, but this takes time. We've done what we can for now. Once we get a lead, we'll make inquiries, and I'll invite you to accompany us. But until then, we wait and go about our daily work. Let's just hope they live in a city, because if they don't…."

"I know," Ben sighed. "If they're in an isolated place, there's less chance of finding them." He looked down at the hardened callouses on his hands from working the ropes of the vessels he oversaw, and a thought hit him. "Their hands! They aren't country people. People who do physical work have hands like this!" He held his own up for emphasis. "The scars of hard work always remain. But I shook Stanley's hand when we first met, and remember thinking that he couldn't have ever done manual labor."

Harry looked at the captain and smiled. "Then I think we're on the right track." He nodded to Ben "You look tired. You've gotten the message out at the docks, and we'll continue to send letters to cities in a widening radius from Cleveland, so go get a good night's sleep. A clue is bound to come in soon." As Ben turned to leave, Harry grasped his shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "We'll find him."

 **Part Two**

 **One**

Stanley was heading home after being out the entire day. He'd left Vera alone with Adam early that morning while he'd gone to see his lawyer and accountant, and resign from his job. Stanley worked as a salesman for a women's hosiery company, and he sold just enough of the thick cotton or woolen stockings to keep the position. He felt some satisfaction in that he'd managed to sell a few pairs of the plain, utilitarian product to stores in every city where they'd stayed in the past two years. His father's money ensured a life where he didn't have to hold a job, but when he'd get tired with the charade of being a salesman, he'd remind himself that there was a benefit to working. It had given him an excuse to get out of the boarding houses—and away from Vera—during the time they'd been searching for "their child."

Vera forbade him to speak of what he did, and when questions were asked at the boarding house dinner tables, she would mention that Stanley "was in sales." Any further questions were deflected by her saying that he couldn't speak of his job. He assumed those who'd heard that explanation thought he sold things to the government or he had products that couldn't be divulged because of some special agreement. He only needed a minimal sampling of his stockings, and they fit inside a small folder he tucked in his jacket pocket. He'd often checked behind him when he'd left the boarding houses, wondering if anyone would follow, trying to figure out what he was really up to. No one ever did. No one cared enough to put out that much effort, and he'd assumed they'd all thought it was a lie anyway; something the couple told to make themselves seem more mysterious than they really were. But he bet that right about now, Ben Cartwright wished he'd done just that.

Adam had been with them for two weeks already, and at times their new family ran smoothly. Yet he could sense Vera's increasing irritation with their latest choice, and as he'd spent more time with Adam, he'd become certain that _this_ child had been in need of nothing they could give him. They'd ripped him away from a loving parent, not some derelict, and "Junior" wasn't responding to Vera's wheedling promises or her threats. She'd been left speechless and sputtering many times when the little boy had questioned her about what she was telling him, or thanked her for everything she offered, but then said he'd prefer to return to his father.

Stanley's strengthening spine had another amazing effect. It had increased his moral eyesight, and he now knew that Vera had lied about the others they'd taken too. She had seen peril where none existed, and wove a story around her lies that let her take them without a thought of the pain she'd caused.

On their second day on the trip back to Akron, she'd decided that Junior was going to be a genius, so she'd made plans to start teaching him. She'd turned their dining room into a classroom and held lessons for the entire day since they'd gotten home. That had proved frustrating rather than producing stellar intelligence. She had become increasing upset that he couldn't sound out all the words or decipher the difficult passages from books written for adults who were far smarter than Vera, nor could he figure the arithmetic from a secondary text she'd found at the store.

He shook his head in disgust as he considered that Vera didn't understand these things either. There were times when Stanley had heard Adam give a reasonable and thoughtful assessment of what he'd managed to read, but Vera wasn't smart enough to see that he was right. In fact she needed the "teacher's key" to the arithmetic problems to know the answers, and couldn't begin to _explain_ how to solve them. Yet she'd become livid when a four-year-old couldn't work them. Knowing he'd have to be gone most of this day, he'd taken steps to help the lessons run more smoothly in his absence.

Stanley had always stayed nearby during the previous fruitless "teaching" sessions, listening for the tone of Vera's voice to rise to dangerous levels of volume and pitch. When he sensed there would be some serious consequence to Adam for his lack of "cooperation," he'd step in and calm his wife, telling her that she was exhausting herself. He'd made her rest and brought her tea before he'd taken Adam outside to play or walk to the canal where the boy's amazement with the waterway had remained constant. He suspected it was probably not the water that was the lure for the child, but rather the fact that it flowed to Lake Erie, where Ben Cartwright held sway over the harbor. The canal was the child's connection to his father, and he'd gaze northward with a longing look that touched Stanley's heart.

He knew that Adam was in jeopardy because of Vera's unrealistic expectations. She'd told Stanley that Adam was a "difficult child," although he'd gotten her to admit that Adam tried very hard to do the lessons. Her biggest concern was, "He asks questions about everything. The only time he stops is when I threaten to rap him one with the ruler, like my mother used to do to me."

Stanley knew from experience how his wife would rid herself of this irritation. The difficulty was that "disposing" of a _child_ wouldn't be as easy as it had been with the babies they'd taken.

Hoping to ease the conflict between student and teacher, he and Adam had stopped at a store while on their walk the day before. He'd purchased a number of primers that Adam had been able to read. He'd also gotten a book of easy arithmetic that would be simpler for both Vera and her pupil. Adam had an aptitude for adding and subtracting and this text would build on that instead of jumping ahead to difficult problems he was far too young to understand.

Stanley squared his shoulders as he inhaled deeply and smiled. Something remarkable was happening to him that had started since Adam had been with them. He'd watched this little boy stand up to his wife. He wasn't rude or unruly; he just asked her to explain herself. Adam always tried, even when Vera changed the rules so often the child became confused over what it was she wanted. He wouldn't call her mother, but he was always polite, calling her, "Ma'am," and he always said please and thank you even when Vera's behavior was more childlike than Adam's. And the thing that impressed Stanley the most was that while the child flinched when threatened, he looked Vera in the eyes during her tirades. Watching Adam stand tall in the face of all that was happening to him had promoted the healing of Stanley's backbone too.

When he saw any evidence of the little boy wavering in his attempt to pretend that this was normal, Stanley would take him aside and promise him that he was working on a plan to get him home. He figured that Adam would have run away if there'd been a chance to do so. But Vera had put a lot of forethought into this before they'd ever set out to find a child, and she had decorative wrought iron attached to the windows and doors of the house. The back yard was walled-in by a high picket fence with pointed iron finials attached atop each board, making it nearly impossible to cross over even if someone could scale it. Adam was a prisoner. His cell was a comfortable house, but the warden was crazy.

He'd made up his mind that he would get this child back where he belonged, and he knew he'd have to be ready to move soon. There would come a moment when Vera would demand that she be relieved of the burden of raising this uncooperative child, and expect that he act immediately. She thought he'd "taken care" of the others, and he had—but in a humane way. He was guilty of being a kidnapper and a coward, but he wasn't a murderer.

What made this so mystifying to him was that in the recesses of his wife's mind, she'd believed she'd done the right thing by "rescuing" these children. But when they weren't all that she'd expected, the only reasonable conclusion she could conceive of was to relieve them of their earthly bonds. She was insane…and he had become the ultimate weakling: too afraid of his wife to stand up to her, yet too afraid to do what she wanted. So he'd saved the little ones and reunited them with their parents, while allowing Vera to think he'd actually done as she'd asked.

It was reckoning time. Adam was old enough…and smart enough…that he would tell the sordid tale of his abductors, and then Stanley and Vera would face prosecution. Knowing this had actually eased even more pressure from Stanley's aching back. He knew it was time to end this, and Adam was the catalyst for him to begin making amends. It wasn't going to be easy, but he'd already stood up to Vera several times in the last two weeks. He'd cloaked several suggestions about how she might better get along with the four-year-old using his most flattering words and submissive posture. Each piece of advice had brought a severe reaction, followed by her acceptance as she adopted the idea as her own. However, his increasing height was making her wary of him, and he had the feeling she was going to demand evidence that he'd killed the child this time.

Stanley knew the only way Adam would get away was for him to help the child escape when the moment of truth arrived. To that end, he'd begun to work through a plan. He'd convinced Vera that Junior needed exercise at least twice a day to help him stay interested during the teaching sessions. He'd suggested that supervised walks would be the most calming. They'd followed the same route to the canal at least two times each day, and he'd made sure Adam was mapping the route in his mind. It had gone well. The previous day, Adam had led the way and gotten them there without a misstep.

He breathed in relief as he rounded the final corner toward his house, knowing that Adam's surety about his escape route had come none too soon. Last night Vera had begun her rant of dissatisfaction with the words, "Maybe it's time to start looking again. This boy isn't going to work out. He isn't smart enough and he won't ever love me like I want him to." The decree had been issued, and unless Adam made some miraculous turn-around and became a cuddly, fully submissive child in the next 24-hours, Vera would demand his immediate "removal."

But Stanley was ready, and he smiled broadly as he thought about his newly-found strength. He couldn't believe that he'd found healing through the actions of a child. The smile widened as he thought about coming up behind Vera that morning as she'd checked her hair in the mirror. He'd been amazed to see that their heights had readjusted to the proper ratios. He knew he could stand up to her now, and the smile faded as he felt remorse about not having grown a backbone the first time she'd proposed kidnapping as a way to get a child. _Better late than not at all_ , he thought as he slid open the outer lock on the back gate and entered.

Evening was cloaking the yard with ominous looking shadows, but his eyes were drawn to one particular dark outline that looked like a pile of clothing on the back stoop. His heart seized as he got closer and he made out Adam's wavy mop of hair resting on the wooden porch slats. It was a chilly evening, so he wasn't sure if the coolness of the boy's cheek was due to that or something far worse. He ran his finger along the curve of the quiet child's chin and said, "Adam?" A heart-deep moan escaped Stanley's lips when his action brought no response. He did a quick run-through of what might have happened during the hours he'd been away. He'd been certain that the simpler materials he'd bought would have provided a satisfactory day for teacher and child, but as he bent down further he noted that Adam's clothing had a distinctive odor.

Stanley sank onto the porch next to the lifeless form and grieved his stupidity in leaving Adam unprotected. He'd used his time away wisely as he'd done the legal work to bring these last two years to a permanent end, but he hadn't considered that his wife would have added one of her mother's favorite games to the simple day he'd imagined. But then nothing could ever be simple with her. With the teaching going better, he should have predicted that she would try other ways to find fault and rid herself of this responsibility.

Vera had endured the same sort of treatment from her mother, who had been a master at causing humiliation. One of the older woman's "tests of character" had to do with forbidding Vera to relieve herself. Doris had been adamant that a person could control such functions and the failure to do so for long hours—even after being made to drink large quantities of liquid—was a flaw. When Vera's body did what it had to do to relieve the pressure, her mother had beaten her and then sent her to a shed outside where she'd gone without food and water until Doris had remembered she was out there.

The evidence on Adam's clothing suggested that perhaps Vera had put the boy through the same proving process, and he'd failed…just as she had. Stanley imagined that her rage at Adam soiling one of her fancy covered chairs had sent Vera into a storm that she hadn't been able to control. His shoulders hung forward as his grief left his body in a sob, knowing that he'd allowed this to happen.

 **Two**

Ben's legs felt anchored to the ground as he made his way home from work. It seemed so incongruous that he would continue his daily routines while his son remained missing, yet it made the most sense. He'd spread the word about Adam's abduction, and it was important to be at the docks to keep talking with people. Harry and the Cleveland police had continued to make inquiries and send letters to every town in Ohio and bordering states. All they could do was wait for something…anything to give them a direction. He did wonder if the police would have been so diligent had Harry Stauffer not been Grace's son. It didn't matter, he was just grateful for the efforts.

He looked up as he heard his name being shouted in the distance and waved as Harry ran toward him.

"I'm glad I found you!" the young man said as came to a halt and grabbed Ben's shoulders. "There's news!"

Ben's head swam. "You've found Adam?"

"Not yet, but other children have gone missing. Come back to the station and I'll show you. You don't get the impact until you view it all on a map."

The captain motioned the two men into his office when they got to the precinct house, and laid a map of Ohio on his desk. "I'll let the inspector explain, since he's the reason we have this." he told Ben as he handed Harry a pencil.

Harry's chest puffed out as he began. "You'll remember that I sent couriers in a 20-mile radius of the city right after Adam disappeared. They delivered a letter of inquiry to whatever law enforcement was in these towns, or to the owner of the largest business if there was no police. Today I received five responses that are relevant…and nearly identical." He laid the five notes on the desk. "They came from Salem, Ashtabula, Streetsboro, Willowick and North Olmsted." He drew a dot on the map each time he mentioned a city and then connected the dots to form an arc around the outskirts of Cleveland.

"Stop building the suspense, Harry," Ben scolded. "What information did they give you?"

"Each of those towns had a report of a missing child within the last two years. Of course there's no way to gather this kind of information unless someone asks about it. For them, it was a local incident, nothing more."

"Were these children like Adam?"

The captain spoke up. "No, they were babies or young toddlers, Mr. Cartwright. As we place dates to the events along that line on the map, it seems that the first child to disappear was the youngest at eight months, and the last one was about 15 months."

"I'm afraid to ask; were these children found?"

Harry smiled. "They were…returned. The first three were found sleeping in boxes outside their homes early in the morning, one was left at a church and the oldest was found outside the police station after a loud knock. No one saw who'd brought them."

"How long were they gone, and were they hurt in any way?" Ben's face was a mask of hope mixed with fear.

"None of them were gone more than a few days, and they were unharmed."

The captain smiled broadly. "And here's the best part, Mr. Cartwright. The owners of the boarding house in these towns each reports having had a salesman and his wife with them for a few weeks, and one for several months last winter. The dates seem to correspond to the times the babies went missing, but they were taken from their homes while the parents were outside doing chores and the baby slept in the house."

"Did the landlords have names for the couple?"

"Vera and Stanley." The captain laughed "The last names varied, but apparently Vera and Stanley couldn't manage having aliases for their first names." He became thoughtful. "Assuming that Vera and Stanley were the ones who abducted the little ones, it would seem they spent time in the area beforehand to observe the families and watch for the right opportunity, just as they did with your son." Captain Jones's tone turned apologetic. "All five families were scraping by, and I'm wondering if their reports weren't taken quite as seriously as they should have been because of that. One of those responses even says that the town constable figured the folks had given the child for adoption and then had a change of heart, accounting for the 'return.'"

"I suppose they were suspected of abandoning their children just as you did of me at first. But it turned out well for them, and I'm thankful." Ben slumped back in his chair and sighed. "Adam's been gone two weeks already. That doesn't fit the pattern." He looked directly at Harry and shook his head. "What do you think they're up to this time?"

Harry blushed. "I hope you don't mind, but Ma was here earlier when we were working on all of this. I think she had a pretty accurate idea about it."

"I trust Grace's intuition."

"Ma said that when anyone asked the Winters about having children, Vera always said that she wasn't blessed to 'raise' one of her own. Ma said it always rang a little odd in her ear, and she now thinks that Vera was intent on getting one that she could raise."

Ben nodded. "I heard her say that too."

"Well, Ma thinks that Vera used those other missing children as stepping stones to deciding what would make the perfect child."

Ben's nod became vigorous. "I get what Grace is thinking. Vera probably thought she wanted a baby and started there. But babies are a lot of work, and Vera never impressed me as someone with patience. From what the captain said about the parents' situations, she probably felt that the children she took were in need of something only she could offer. Her comments about me not being around much and the unsuitability of taking a child on a trek west were undoubtedly her excuse for taking Adam."

"Exactly!" Harry walked the room's perimeter as he continued. "Ma thinks that when Vera saw Adam, she decided he was perfect. He was older; a sweet natured child who was intelligent and polite, but still young enough to control."

"So maybe it's going better this time…," Ben pondered aloud. "But if she didn't like the younger children for the amount of work they were, she's not going to find life a lot easier with Adam. He can take care of himself in some ways, but he will never accept whatever explanation they're giving him for why I would abandon him." He paled and shuddered as he thought of how Vera cowed her husband, and imagined what her methods might be for bringing a child into line. The fear was replaced by resolve as he looked up at the two men. "So how do we find them? They must live close if they were able to return those babies so quickly."

"Not necessarily," the captain interjected. "There are lots of small burgs near the route that connects those missing babes. Harry's letter only asked about missing children. He didn't inquire about strangers with a baby that might have stayed there. They had to move on after taking the children, but I'm thinking they may have never gone 'home.' Maybe they had a place near there where they went to avoid detection, but something happened right away, and they returned the child and moved a little farther down the road. And if they lived close by, they could have done their searches without staying in a boarding house."

Harry added, "Their 'hunting grounds' were all small towns, but I think they finally decided to try a bigger city where there'd be more options." He nodded toward Ben. "You and Adam walked right into their web. I assume that they finally did go home with Adam. But I'd bet that home is a ways from here so there'd be no chance of someone recognizing him."

Captain Jones laid a hand on Ben's shoulder. "I have to warn you of one thing, Mr. Cartwright. They may have simply returned home to lay low after things went badly this time. Those babies couldn't give evidence against them, but Adam could. If this couple is as crazy or desperate as they seem, then…your son might not…."

The silence in the room gave credence to the captain's unfinished thought. Ben shook off his fear. "I think Adam is alive and doing the best he can. I haven't hidden my struggles from my son. I don't tell him the worst of it, but I've always taught him how we use our minds and skills to keep going through the toughest of times. He may not understand this completely, but he'll be strong and hold on until we can find him."

"Ma said the same thing." Harry smiled at Ben. "You said your son is hard-headed, and she confirmed that. But she thought the difference between Adam and other children…including me when I was young," he said chuckling, "is that once she told him how things were going to be, he didn't spend any time fretting about it. He did what she asked of him—no tears, no talking back, no tantrums. She laughed when she said he probably checked her logic with you later, but he did the best he could until then." Harry looked to both men and clapped his hands together. "How do we narrow down the places they might have gone, and get this boy home?"

"None of us paid any mind to what those two said because we assumed it was all fabrication." Ben looked at Harry and smiled as an idea began to form. "Your mother said Stanley left the house some days and would be gone for several hours. She thought he just needed to get away from Vera for a time and maybe he walked or sat in a park or tavern before heading back. But…what if he really did make business calls in Cleveland and in all those other places too. He could have been an account auditor or sold something that required infrequent service."

Harry nodded. "Ma was sure it was a story to make them seem more mysterious…a salesman who couldn't talk about his wares! But it's worth a shot! Everything's closed now, but I'll send men out in the morning to ask around."

"I'll report to the dock tomorrow, but then I'll help in town. An extra body will cover more ground." Ben sighed deeply. "If we can find where he stopped here, then we can find out who he works for and follow that back to him."

 **Three**

Stanley pulled Adam's cold, limp body onto his lap and then yelped in joy as the little boy began to wiggle and push away. Adam's large, dark eyes met Stanley's as he registered who was holding him, and snuggled into the warmth of the man's coat. "You all right?" he asked the child and received a nod as he opened the buttons and wrapped the sides of his jacket around the shivering boy.

Adam pulled back. "Don't. You'll get dirty. Ma'am won't like that."

"I don't care what she doesn't like, son. We're going to warm you up a little and then get a nice hot bath and some food." He felt Adam relax against him again. "I'm thinking Vera wouldn't let you use the privy and then got mad when you wet yourself?" Another nod. "Did she hurt you?"

The child's head moved side to side. "She said I was a pig, and pigs don't come in the house."

Stanley shook his head and bit his lip as he tried to understand how anyone who'd been mistreated in their childhood could repeat that humiliation on another. "She's not very nice to you, is she?"

Adam sat back and grinned sadly. "She's not very nice to you either."

"No she isn't, and I think it's time to change that." Stanley removed his coat and tucked Adam inside it before setting him on the porch step. He angled himself to see Adam's face so he'd be sure the child understood what he was about to say. "It's time for you to go home, son." He saw the look of pure hope wash across Adam's face. "It won't be tonight, but you'll have to be ready to go when I say. You know the way to the docks now, so when I tell you to run, you go there."

"Alone?"

"Yes. You'll have to go alone because I'll need to take care of things here."

"What do I do there?"

"Find someone on the first barge you see. Tell him who you are and that you need to get to Ben Cartwright in Cleveland. I'm sure they'll have heard about you being missing, and they'll help you. Once I'm done with Vera, I'll come to the docks too and go along to explain things to your pa." He gave Adam a minute to mull over the directions. "I didn't lock the back gate, so you'll be able to get out. Do you think you can do this?"

Adam gave a weak nod, followed by a stronger one.

"Are you afraid?"

"Some."

"You'll do fine, son. You've always wanted to ride on one of those barges. And that water goes straight to your pa." Adam's look of fear was overtaken by a smile and look of determination. "C'mon now." Stanley stood and lifted Adam to his hip as he started to the house. "You can bathe while I fix Vera a special supper."

Vera refused to let Adam eat after he'd gotten cleaned up, and insisted that he sleep on a pad on the kitchen floor, declaring him likely to soil their expensive bed and furnishings. She stood over him with her finger wagging in his face, pronouncing that he would continue to sleep there until he was able to control himself like civilized people.

Stanley might have fought against her ranting had he not been moving forward on his plan. He'd given his nods and bowed his head when she'd asked him to confirm her conclusions as he'd cooked her favorite meal. He'd pulled Adam aside when she'd left the room and reminded him that he would soon be on his way home. The house quieted when Vera declared her exhaustion and headed for bed. Stanley took her a "special" cup of tea, and returned to the kitchen to feed Adam and do another walk through of the plans for the next day.

Stanley stood next to the bed as sunlight sent its first bright tentacles through the porous shade in their bedroom, patting Vera's hair as she slumped over the chamber pot, heaving and moaning. When she could raise her head, she howled, "That food you made was bad! How could you be so stupid as to cook spoiled meat?"

He held her hair back as the vomited again, and soothed, "If that was true, I would be sick as well." He dabbed her chin dry as she slumped back against her pillow. "I think it's more likely that you have made yourself ill in trying so hard with the child. You know you become ill when you exhaust yourself."

"You're probably right, dear." She nodded as she got comfortable. "I will need a doctor, Stanley. But we can't bring anyone here who might believe the lies that little urchin would tell about us."

Stanley grinned as he turned away. "I could lock him in his room or out in the shed while Doctor Lemke is here."

She rolled her head side-to-side on the pillow. "That would work for now, but I'm much too ill to continue schooling him or making efforts to correct his appalling behavior. It's time he leaves us and goes to a better life than anyone on earth can give him."

"I understand, dear; it's the best solution. I'll take care of him, and then get the doctor."

Vera reached for her husband's hand. "You're good to me…most times. Maybe the next child we find will love and appreciate us."

Stanley heard Vera retching again as he closed the door and headed to the kitchen. "There will be no next time," he muttered under his breath. "And I'm glad you're finally experiencing what you put Grace through the day we took Adam." He grinned wickedly. "I think it's time for a little more tea with your own special sweetener."

After brewing a cup of tea laced with an emetic and taking it to his "ailing" wife, Stanley returned to help Adam get dressed and eat a quick breakfast. With those tasks completed, he squatted next to the boy and took his hand. "It's time to go. You get to the docks as fast as you can. I need to finish with Vera and then I'll find you. But don't worry if I don't get there before the boat has to leave. You just go." He lifted Adam's chin. "Can you do this?"

A firm nod indicated he could, and Stanley handed him a cloth bag containing the few new clothes and toys that had been purchased for the child Vera had wanted so badly. Yet she'd never let this child touch any of them for fear of breaking or soiling them. Stanley figured Adam had earned the right to take it all and do whatever he pleased with it."

He heard Vera hollering for him as he watched Adam leave the yard on his own. Instead of rushing upstairs, he watched as the child trotted down the street and turned the corner toward the canal.

"What dear?" he asked as he entered their room again. _Their room_ , he thought angrily. They'd had to share a room at the boarding houses where they'd stayed, but at home he slept on a cot in the cold room at the back corner of the house. Vera always had an excuse for why he couldn't stay with her, and frankly, as time had gone on he'd become grateful for the peace his little cell had afforded. In fact it proved most helpful in the last few days, as he'd written out the letters he'd taken to his lawyer. Vera never entered his room, so he'd known his secret would remain safe until the sky was falling in on her.

The haggard-looking woman gazed at him from glassy eyes, and whined, "It's getting worse again. Did you take care of the brat so you can get the doctor?"

"Yes, Vera. He's gone, and help will be here soon." What he didn't say was that he'd made arrangements yesterday for his lawyer to drop off a letter with the Akron police first thing this morning. In it he'd told the whole sordid story of their last few years. He hadn't tried to exonerate himself in the matter. He'd confessed to it all, and he planned to plead guilty to whatever charges were brought against him so Adam wouldn't have to go through a trial.

He thought he probably should have waited for the police to take Adam home, but he'd decided to get him on his way before they arrived. Stanley had suspected that the scene would get ugly as Vera realized she was being betrayed, and he'd worried that if she got an inkling of what he was doing, she might go after Adam herself. In the end, he'd decided to use the same method to keep her indisposed as Vera had used on Grace Stauffer. Everything was working well…so far…and he hoped that the police would bring a doctor as he'd asked for in the letter.

He'd come to realize that his wife would need to be confined to a mental institution where she couldn't hurt anyone else. He, on the other hand, was guilty of criminal actions, and with his newly healed backbone guiding his actions, he intended to pay for the hell they'd caused the families of their victims. To atone for that in a more helpful way, he'd had his lawyer set up funds for each of the children they'd taken, including Adam Cartwright. Stanley doubted Ben would take the money, so he set that payment up as an investment maturing when Adam turned 30. The little boy would be a man by then, and he could use the money as he saw fit.

He thought back to the previous day's meeting with his lawyer. The attorney had no idea what was written in the letter he was asked to deliver, but he'd been so happy for the commission the transferring of Stanley's fund would produce, that he hadn't asked questions. The man's wary expression as they'd shaken hands at the end of the day, had spoken of his concern for his long-time client. He'd finally asked if everything was all right in the Freemont home, and Stanley had responded that things were fine for the first time in a long while.

He was still deep in thought while Vera whimpered and complained in the background, but a pounding on the front door brought him back to the present. He excused himself as he headed to the bedroom door. "Help is here now, dear. It'll all be over soon." He stood straight, squared his shoulders and then hurried down the steps to end his two-year odyssey.

Stanley was running. He was feeling free for the first time in so long that he stopped a moment and gave a shout of thanks, before taking off again toward the harbor.

The police had questioned him for over an hour while an officer and the doctor they'd brought, tried to talk to Vera. They'd gone over his letter, and he'd re-told the details of the abductions and their reasoning. He ended the story by saying he'd gotten five of them home safely, but Adam had managed to run away that morning, and he had no idea where he'd gone. He'd mentioned a park where Adam liked to play, and the stores they'd visited. His hope was that Adam would be safely on his way to Cleveland by the time the police could begin searching for him. Stanley had no desire to delay the reunion between Ben and Adam any longer, and he knew that once the Cartwrights were together, it would take a mighty force to separate them. Ben would help Adam give his statement in Cleveland and make sure his son never had to set foot in Akron or see Vera again.

Vera's reaction to his treachery had born out as he'd predicted. She'd gone wild, and he figured her caterwauling had been heard for blocks. The doctor agreed that she was mentally unstable and arranged for her transport to an institution rather than jail. Stanley's money would come in handy there too. He'd set aside a fund to pay for a "nicer" place where his wife could spend her days once her legal proceedings were completed. Stanley had waited impatiently through all the foofaraw, and had seen his chance to escape when all police personnel were called upstairs to subdue Vera enough to get her out to the ambulance.

He'd never felt so free or hopeful in his life as he ran to the docks. He knew he still had to pay society for his crimes, but he hoped he'd arrive in time to accompany Adam back to Cleveland so he could make his confession directly to Ben before turning himself in. He headed to the nearest dock still berthing a barge, and approached a group of deck hands working on the pier ropes. "Have you seen a small boy this morning?" he asked, as he panted to catch his breath. "I sent him here and told him I'd meet him later."

The captain of the boat walked to the edge of his vessel, and looked warily at the inquirer. He nodded toward Stanley. "You say you're lookin' for a child?"

"Yes!" Stanley shouted. "Have you seen him? I told him to speak to any of the barge hands; I knew he'd be safe here."

The captain looked downward and shook his head. "Would this have been a curly-haired, cute little tyke?"

"Yes," Stanley cried again. "Where is he?"

"What relation is he to you?" one of the mates asked.

"He was my ward for a few weeks. Please tell me where he is."

The captain gave his deck hands a knowing look, and then shook his head. "There was a small boy here earlier. He wore a brown coat, and a blue hat." He nodded toward his men. "He were carryin' a sack of things too, weren't he?" The men agreed that he had been. "Does that sound like the boy you lookin' for?"

"That's him! Where is he?"

"He tried to get aboard one of the rafts, but slipped on the gangway and fell in. Poor kid didn't know how to swim and was quickly taken under."

"Tell me he was rescued," Stanley pled of the men who were closing ranks around him.

"I'm sorry to give you the bad news, but the child's body was pulled from the canal and taken to the police station. You should go there. No one knew who he was." As Stanley bent over in a moan, the captain motioned for his men to move in.

Stanley panicked when he glanced up and realized what was happening. These men clearly knew that he had some hand in whatever had happened, and were bent on taking him to the authorities. His eyes darted around the group until he saw the smallest man. He rushed at him, knocking him down, and broke through the human barricade. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran away and saw that he was being followed. But Stanley knew these streets well, and he weaved through the alleys until he lost his pursuers. He didn't stop running until he reached the livery where he contracted for a good horse to get him to Cleveland.

His escape hadn't been motivated by fear for himself. It had been fueled by the certainty that he owed Ben Cartwright an explanation about what had happened to Adam. He'd surrender once that was done, and face charges for a kidnapping that led to a child's death. Life in prison didn't bother him as much as facing Ben, but he wanted to do it. He needed to tell him that his son had made a difference in the world during the short time he'd lived.

 **Four**

Ben and a few officers had spent a good part of the day inquiring about Stanley at stores and businesses near enough the boarding house to be reached on foot. The illusive salesman had never used a buggy, so it made sense to start the search close to home. They planned to widen the scope if today's efforts failed, and so far they had. Many people could remember seeing someone matching Stanley's description, but knew nothing of him, and figured he'd only been a customer, not someone with a product to sell.

The weary man's disappointment exited in a sigh as he looked over the bay and prayed for some sign to help them find Adam. He was nearing his frustration point, and had decided that if this canvas gave them nothing more to go on, he'd head out on his own and search through every town in Ohio and beyond until he found his son. In fact he had a sick feeling that he'd have been further ahead if he'd done that from the very beginning instead of allowing himself to be convinced that patience would win out.

It was late-afternoon and many offices had already closed for the day. Shops were still open, but they'd managed to ask questions and leave information at those establishments, so the search had been suspended. Ben's view of the harbor allowed him to see that the outbound barges had been loaded and were pulling out for their trips home, while a line of arriving boats waited to dock and get paperwork for their turn-around in the morning. He shook his head to clear his aching mind, and muttered, "Might as well go help out," as he headed down a street that led to the dock offices. He knew Harry would find him he if had news.

He stopped in mid stride and turned when he heard shouting, and saw Harry standing up the street next to one of the men from a store he'd stopped at earlier. Ben broke into a trot until he reached the pair.

"You talked to Zeke earlier." Harry nodded toward the shopkeeper. "He has news, and came to the precinct to find you." He winked. "He found me instead."

Zeke's cheeks grew pink as he bounced from foot-to-foot. "I told you I'd not ever seen the man you were looking for, Mr. Cartwright, but a little later, Mrs. Jackson came to work and I told her about your questions. She orders the women's clothes and she knew right off the person you want. He's Stanley Freemont and he works for a stocking company out of Akron."

Ben's knees felt like rubber. "We need to talk to her."

Harry gripped Ben's shoulder. "I already went back to the store with Zeke and talked to Mrs. Jackson. She said that Stanley came to Weibolts last fall, and told her such a sad story of his life that she ordered a few sizes of his hosiery out of pity. He'd been so grateful that he'd come round every few weeks since then just to talk to her. She remembered him telling her that he had a house in Akron, but that he and his wife had been traveling for over a year. When he was in the last time, he said they had tired of living out of a satchel, and had decided to head home soon."

"Thank you," Ben breathed as he shook Zeke's hand. He looked at Harry and smiled. "Obviously Stanley isn't as discreet when he's out on his own." The grin faded to determination. "When do we leave?"

"We'll get two horses from the police livery and go as soon as we can. I think it's a full moon tonight, but those roads aren't in great shape, so we can stop for the night if we have to." He tipped his head as he saw Ben grimace. "Can you ride?"

"Not as well as I'd like," Ben chuckled. "I've ridden on farm horses, but life on the sea doesn't usually require equestrian skills. It doesn't matter. You can tie me in the saddle if you need to."

 **Five**

Stanley had ridden his horse to exhaustion, but they'd made the 30 miles trek from Akron to Cleveland in four hours. He was a poor rider and he'd held on for dear life, but the animal was in good shape, and had been smarter than Stanley, pacing itself on the trip. After dropping the tired, sweating horse at the livery where he'd kept his buggy, he headed out on foot.

It was late afternoon and he wasn't sure where to find Ben, but the docks seemed the logical place to start. He assumed Ben continued to work after Adam went missing. It made sense for him to do that until he had some solid information, and the shipmates could have helped Ben spread the word of his dilemma far and wide. It was the reason Stanley had felt so sure that the barge hands would know about Adam and be anxious to take him home.

Stanley spent a minute wondering how much Ben might have discovered about him. Vera had never given clues about anything in their life, yet Ben was a smart man and he might have picked up on something they'd said or done. He hadn't been as secretive as Vera, but he'd only spoken with one old woman at a department store where he'd sold his stockings. Since no one really knew whether he truly sold anything, he assumed Ben wouldn't have found that one needle in the haystack without a lot of luck.

He turned the corner onto the street leading to the harbor and stopped when he saw a familiar silhouette talking with another man a few blocks ahead of him. Before he could close the gap between them, the pair started walking away, and he hurried to catch up. Traffic was heavy as laden supply wagons left the harbor warehouses with their bounties from the barges and ships, but Harry didn't care about anything except getting to his confessional. He was a half block back and hollering Ben's name as he stepped in front of a lorry as it entered the intersection. The driver tried to stop….

Harry and Ben had sent the store clerk on his way and then continued to make plans for their departure to Akron. They were only a block from the docks, so Harry decided he'd accompany Ben there to let them know he'd be away for a few days, and then they'd head out together. They'd just begun walking when they heard a collision behind them. There'd been shouts, the scream of horses being reined sharply, the eerie sound of breaking wheels skidding across stone, and finally the solid thud of a wagon hitting something. They looked at each other and diverted their journey back to the scene of the accident to lend a hand.

The two men were the first to arrive, and they knelt by the victim. He was alive, but the odd angles of his body and limbs suggested he'd been mortally injured. Ben gasped as they rolled the person onto his back, and he recognized the dying man. The heavy front wheel had rolled across Stanley, breaking several bones. The fact that he was still breathing indicated that the wheel had crossed lower on his torso, and Ben suspected that Stanley's insides were as broken as his limbs.

Stanley looked up through a pain-clouded haze and whispered, "I'm sorry, Ben."

Ben was moved with compassion over the situation, but he had unfinished business with this man and he needed to get answers. "Where's Adam. He was with you, wasn't he?"

A weak nod. "He was a good boy. I…loved him." His words were uttered between gasps of pain. "Had to find you. Letter in pocket explains, except…"

"Except what?" Ben wanted to shake him, but he knew it wouldn't help. The man was an inch from death.

"Sent Adam to barges today…" He smiled crookedly. "Helped him escape Vera. But…." The smile turned to a grimace, as tears filled the dying man's eyes. "Slipped…drowned."

Ben's face paled. "Are you telling me that Adam is…?"

Another week nod. "Gone. He was so…good…." Stanley Freemont choked on his own blood as he exhaled for the last time.

Ben felt the world collapse around him, and he slumped forward while Harry dug in Stanley's pocket to find the letter. He read it through and showed Ben the sheet of paper. "He confirms everything we suspected. They live in Akron, and he wrote that Vera had decided they would find a perfect child. He admitted that he was a coward against her insanity, but that he grew a backbone while watching Adam deal with what was happening to him."

"Adam could do that: make you a better person, I mean." Ben sniffed. "Having him made me a better man." He shook his head as he looked at Harry. "How could this happen? Adam didn't deserve this. He was just a little boy."

Harry had no answers for the grieving father and allowed Ben a moment to grieve the loss before he pointed to another part of the letter. "Stanley wrote that he practiced with Adam so he could get away and make it to the docks safely. He presumed you'd spread the word about your son being missing, and someone there would take Adam home." Harry ran his sleeve across his cheeks to wipe away the sadness that had escaped with a few tears. "Something must have gone wrong when Adam got there. I think Stanley was trying to say that the little guy made to the docks, but fell in the water and…." He couldn't finish the sentence. They both knew the outcome. He cleared his throat while giving his cheeks another pass. "We'll still go to Akron to see what they know and bring Adam home." He wrapped an arm around Ben's shoulder. "I'm so sorry it ended this way."

Both men sat in silence as the weight of Adam's passing saturated them, but their reflection ended as a man approached, talking a mile-a-minute.

"I saw what happened," the excited newcomer said while waving his arms, trying to indicate how the man and vehicle had met. "That man stepped in front of the wagon. Twern't the driver's fault a'tall," he indicated the man still trying to settle the skittish horses while letting others tend to the victim. "I suppose he's dead, ain't he? He took the full weight of that wheel." He stopped chattering as he took a good look at the men who were kneeling by the body. "Oh! Mr. Cartwright," he said as his voice took on a lighter tone. "It was you I was comin' to find."

Ben pulled himself from his grief enough to look up, and recognized the man as one of his dock hands. "Why were you looking for me, Mike?"

A broad smile cracked his sun-weathered skin as Mike explained. "We have a situation on one of the incoming barges we need to have you check on. There's a stowaway on board, and the captain wants you to take him into custody."

Harry stood and pulled Mike away enough to speak privately. "Mr. Cartwright just received some serious news, and I don't think he's up to coming with you right now. Perhaps you can tell them that he'll be out until further notice. We need to get to Akron to identify his son. It seems he drowned there this morning." He thought a moment. "Are any of the barge people talking about a boy drowning today?"

A knowing look added to Mike's smile. "Yep, they are, but not in the way you think. We gotta get Ben to the docks right now, and I'll let them men explain what's goin' on."

It hadn't been easy to convince Ben to make an extra stop before they headed to Akron, but Harry had finally made progress by saying, "Mike thinks some of the men saw what happened this morning."

Captain Nichols ran to meet the three men as they neared the dock office, and escorted them to his vessel. "I want you to see what we brought with us from Akron," the man offered with a large smile as he led Ben to a sheltered area on the barge created by packing crates, and pointed to their extra passenger.

Ben caught his breath as he saw the stowaway, curled up and sleeping in a spot still warmed by the afternoon sun. "What…how?" He took a deep breath and tried to shove one of the heavy crates out of the way.

"Why don't we wait a minute before you wake him," the captain advised as he took Ben's arm. "He just fell asleep while we were looking for you, and I can tell you he's tired. He stayed awake the whole trip here, and asked a million questions."

"He would." The worried lines in Ben's face changed directions as his heart filled with joy. "I'm so thankful to you, but I'm confused. The man who kidnapped him just told me that Adam drowned."

The group milling around the barge moved so as not to disturb the sleeping youngster. The captain walked with Ben and chuckled once they were far enough removed to speak at a normal volume. "Your boy came up to my barge this morning, and asked to speak to me. He stood tall, and said he was Adam Cartwright and he needed to get to Cleveland to find you. I was flabbergasted. I remembered you telling us all about him being kidnapped, and I wondered how he'd managed to get to us. From what the boy said, I think the man holding him had practiced with him so he could find his way. We should have gone to the police right away, but all any of could think about was getting your boy home to you."

"I appreciate that," Ben offered.

"Adam had also told us that this guy might come looking for him, and we wanted to make sure he didn't find him. So I went to every barge and told them what was going on and to say that they'd seen a boy drown if anyone but you or the police came around. They all agreed and promised they'd get the guy to the authorities. I'm assuming he did show up and was fed the wrong information, but he must have gotten away, since he made it here with that story. What a rotting piece of buzzard meat."

Harry bit his lip as he listened, and he thought back to Stanley's last words. "I know this man did awful things, but I don't think he was trying to run away. I think he came to Cleveland to tell Ben the truth—or what he thought was the truth. He had a letter that said he'd been a coward, but he wasn't anymore and wanted to confess to all of it. He died trying to do that."

Ben nodded. "I agree, and I'm sorry that he died without knowing Adam was safe. But…that is all the pity I can give him right now." He made his way through the group of dock and deck hands that had gathered when news of the miraculous reunion had circulated through the harbor. He shook hands while thanking everyone for their efforts to bring his son home. "Harry and I always thought that our clue would come from you men, and we were right. Adam couldn't have been any safer than in your care. Thank you!" He continued to look back over his shoulder as he finished his round of thanks, making sure that Adam hadn't awakened. The last thing he wanted now was for the little guy to accidentally fall into the water while getting off the barge.

Harry helped disburse the gathering and finally grabbed Ben's shirtsleeve. "C'mon, let's go get that son of yours and make a quick stop at the boarding house before heading to the station. Ma has been grieving powerfully over what happened and she needs to know it's over too.

Ben hadn't been able to see inside the nest where Adam was resting when he was on shore, and was surprised to find a young barge-hand sitting sentinel next to the little boy. "Has he awakened with all the fuss?" Ben asked in a quiet voice.

The young man stopped working on a small wooden boat he was whittling, and smiled. "No sir. He's still snorin'. I got to thinking he might wake up and be a little scared with no one around, so I came back to watch him." He raised his artwork to show Ben. "I been carvin' this for a little bit now, and I finished it so the boy can take it along to play with."

"Thank you." Ben reached over a box to touch the boy's shoulder. "Thank you for both gifts: watching over Adam, and offering him your carving." He watched the rhythmic fall of his son's chest just as he had the last morning he'd seen him, and raised his eyes and thoughts in thanks. "How about you roust him now, and let him know his trip is over."

The young man jiggled Adam's shoulder, and after the little boy gave him an angry pout, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and asked, "Is my papa coming?"

"Look behind you," the young man said as a grin spread across his face.

Adam turned until he saw his father. He scrabbled from his makeshift cot, climbed atop the box separating them, and threw himself into Ben's open arms. "I rode the canal, Pa!" he said proudly. He spent the next minutes recounting the journey until he seemed to run out of words. When there was no more to tell, his bottom lip began to tremble, and he wrapped his arms around his father's shoulders, and buried his head in the curve of his neck as he sighed, "Oh, Papa." The tears he'd held back through his two week ordeal began to flow as he held on tight.

Ben sat on the box his son had just scaled and cradled him while the child cried out his fear, frustration and relief. "It's all right, son; you're safe now," he repeated in a litany as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dried the boy's wet cheeks. Ben finally looked up when Adam's tears slowed, and was reminded once more of the consideration of his harbor family. Work on the barges had stopped, and while the men were curious about the reunion, they were gathered at a distance in respect of his privacy. Even the young man who'd been keeping watch had quietly disappeared. He moved Adam to his hip and walked down the gangplank. Cheers erupted as he did, prompting him to wave and call out a final thanks as he and Harry headed towards a quick reunion with Grace and then to the precinct to give their statements.

It was late in the evening before the Cartwrights were able to return to the boarding house. Harry had accepted the letter from Stanley as his death-bead confession, and had asked Adam a few questions based on its contents. The little boy had verified what Stanley said Vera had done, as well as the fact that Stanley had protected him from the woman's tirades. Those present at the station had laughed when Adam had told of liking "some" of the lessons Vera had done with him, and how he'd pretended to like her…but that he'd really had to pretend hard some times.

Ben kept a watchful eye over his son during the questioning and helped explain things when Adam had trouble understanding. As the inquiry came to a close, Ben gave his son a squeeze and told him what a good job he'd done with everything that had happened to him. When Harry took Adam to show him around the jail, Ben read Staley's letter over a final time. Confronting what his son had endured made him shudder, but he wanted to face it and commit it to memory, just in case Adam had questions later. But in this reading, he also saw that things would have been far worse if Stanley hadn't grown a spine during Adam's time with them. He shuddered again as he wondered what damage Vera would have done if Stanley had remained weak. He was angry about what he and his son had been through, but he was left thankful that no greater harm had come.

Stanley Freemont had been like other men Ben had known in the past; men who were so cowed by a domineering parent or spouse that they couldn't think for themselves. Recollections of Stanley mumbling, "Yes, dear," at the supper table confirmed what the man had written about his subservience. But he'd also written that he'd changed by observing Adam's strength in facing his wife. Ben found it amazing and heartwarming that Adam could have made such an impact, but even scripture talked of accepting God with the surety and faith of a child. Stanley had professed that Adam had never wavered from what he believed. He knew his father would never send him away, and that he'd be found. Ben shook his head and smiled as he wondered what his boy would accomplish in life. This singular focus on truth would serve Adam well…and probably get him into a lot of uncomfortable situations in the years to come.

Grace had kept their dinners warm, and cooed over her youngest border as she served him his favorite things. Adam gave his father a furtive glance after another of the older lady's barrage of kisses that had been given each time she'd brought something to the table.

Ben wrapped him in a one-armed hug and whispered. "She's so happy to see you." He winked. "I'd like to be doing the same thing to you, but I'll hold back until we get to our room. Then I'm gonna hug the stuffing outta you."

Adam giggled, before turning serious. "Pa, will Ma'am and Stanley ever come here again?"

"No, son. Vera will live in a hospital, and Stanley…well, I think you heard us say that he died." A shake of the curly head confirmed that. "What he did was wrong, but that letter he wrote said that you helped him find his way home too. Do you understand what he meant by that?"

"I think so, Pa. He said I had to pretend to like Ma'am…like he did, until we could both run away. Is he happy now?"

"I think so, son. He's in a better place, and he managed to make things right before he died. You helped him with that. Most people go through life without making much of a difference, but you've already done something remarkable."

Ben waited while Grace brought their dessert and returned to the kitchen before asking, "What's with you calling me, Pa? What happened to Papa?"

"Papa is for little kids. I'm older now."

He chuckled, and then tipped Adam's chin to look into his eyes. "You were only gone two weeks, son. That hardly makes you…." He stopped as he realized that Adam was right. He had grown up a lot in the time he'd been gone, and it grieved his heart to think that his son's precious childhood had been shortened even more than it had been already because of the nomadic life they led. "I guess maybe you are older now. But I won't tease you if every now and then you forget that, and sneak in a Papa or two."

 **Epilogue – 26 Years Later**

Ben looked over the letter he'd brought back from town that was addressed to Ben and Adam Cartwright. He thought he should wait until Adam returned with his brothers from branding calves, but his curiosity won out and he slipped the blade of his pocket knife into the corner of the envelope bearing the name of an investment company in Akron Ohio. He and Adam had spent a summer in Cleveland 26 years ago, and he wondered if there was any connection to that time.

He skimmed the first paragraphs as his mouth gaped in realization that it did indeed refer back to that incident. The letter told of a trust that had been set up in Adam's name by the man who'd taken his son for two weeks. The broker wrote that it had reached maturity on Adam's 30th birthday. He also conveyed his apology for the delay and explained that it had taken a few months to find them. The original investor had left scant information about the recipient of the funds, noting only that Adam had been born in Boston; the date he'd thought was his birthday, and that the Cartwrights had been on their way west to settle.

Ben shook his head as he continued reading. He was amazed at how much information could be gleaned on any person as long as some sort of record existed for them. The firm had sent a researcher to Boston, where their man had found a census record from 1828 listing Ben and Elizabeth Cartwright living with Abel Stoddard. That had led to a marriage record, and finally a record of birth for Adam Cartwright that matched the date they had. Their search had come to fruition when they'd gone to the address listed in the census and had spoken with "Mr. Stoddard." The person who'd penned the letter wrote that, "the older gentleman," had been able to verify that his son-in-law and grandson had lived in Cleveland, and after much reassurance that this endowment was legitimate; he'd given them a current address. The letter concluded by asking that the Cartwrights send any particulars of their association with the donor that might match the few other details Mr. Freemont had left with them.

He managed to pull his mouth back to its normal position to read the second page giving the details of the trust, and the third page—a letter to Adam from Stanley Freemont—telling of why he'd made this generous gift. Ben paused in reading, and grinned as he wondered why the "older gentleman" from Boston hadn't written about the inquiry. Yet it seemed like this letter had been posted as soon as they'd gotten the information, and Abel's monthly correspondence wasn't due in for a few days. He was sure there would be detailed information…and questions…in it.

Stanley Freemont: Ben hadn't thought about him for many years, but he still remembered everything about what had happened. On the other hand, he was quite sure that Adam remembered nothing about the dark incident connected to that name. His protective nature whispered that he should leave things as they were, and send a response saying they weren't interested in anything connected to Stanley Freemont. The more rational part of his mind told him that that his son had the right to know about the large endowment, and the story behind it.

He blew out a deep sigh as he looked over the letter written in Stanley's own hand, and he knew with certainty that his son needed to see all of this, and then make his own decision. Adam had been only four at the time, but he'd made a deep impact on another person's life. His decision to show his son the correspondence solidified just as he heard his boys entering the yard, arguing and laughing as they usually did when the work was done and they could finally think about a hot meal and an hour or two to indulge in their own activities before calling it a night. Ben pulled back the curtains and opened the window near his desk enough to hear what they were discussing so loudly. He hated eavesdropping, but he absolved himself from guilt by reasoning that he needed to know if they were truly upset or just having fun.

"You sure got a particular distaste for anyone naming their kid after the father, Adam." Hoss laughed and shook his head as he dismounted. "You always been that way near as I can remember."

"I understand that a man might want to name his son after himself. What bothers me is when the parents forget he has a name and they call him Junior. Mike and Harriet didn't even bother giving their son a name. They're just calling him 'Junior.' A sour look bathed Adam's face as he shuddered. "Junior is not a name; it's a suffix."

Joe giggled. "I can see your point, brother, but I doubt Mike and Harriet would be too happy to hear you say that. Best keep that opinion to yourself."

"Oh, I plan to, Joe. They can name their child whatever they want, but I will never name my son _that_ …and I'm glad Pa never inflicted it on us either."

Ben had a moment to think back as his sons led their horses to the barn, and he found an insight into his eldest's problem with that name. Hoss was right. Adam always had the same sour look he'd shown today when he'd heard someone call for a child named Junior. It struck him as coincidental that the discussion about the "suffix," as Adam had put it, was happening today.

Ben had enough time to think back to their last months in Cleveland. Adam had seemed so unaffected by his time with the Freemonts that Ben had thought there'd been no lasting scars. The conversation he'd just overheard belied that, and he wondered if there were other demons that could be traced back to those two weeks.

That summer had passed quickly after Adam had come home. His little boy had been a little shyer around new people and a little more wary when someone approached him that he didn't know. But he'd never exhibited any signs of "fear." He'd slept soundly, played hard, and had continued to question the other boarding house residents just as he always had. Ben had suspected that the aftermath would have been far different if Stanley had remained a weak accomplice. The truth was that he had done all he could to shelter and protect Adam. His biggest failure had been in not standing up to his wife when she'd first proposed taking a child.

He heard his sons talking again as they exited the barn, and he went to wait for them by the door. His eyes locked on Adam as his memories moved forward from Cleveland. He'd been amazed at Adam's ability to weather a bad situation and even cause another person to heal their spirit. Back then he had wondered how his son's singular belief in the truth, and his ability to adjust to extreme changes would serve him. He now realized that he'd observed Adam act in the same way many times since then. And as he'd prophesied, it had often put Adam at odds with those who didn't value the truth or thought he was simply being stubborn or inflexible. All three of his sons had experienced sorrow and challenges, but Adam had faced the most in life, and he was still the person he'd always been…even at age four. "They're all remarkable," he said under his breath as he moved to the porch as the three young men hurried to greet him.

"So I gather from your conversation that the Humphreys had their baby?"

Hoss grabbed Adam around the shoulders and looked at his father. "Yeah. They had a boy, but my older brother has a dislike for the baby's name."

"Let your brother be, Hoss," Ben teased. "When you have children of your own, you can name them whatever you like…and if I know you and Little Joe, you'll each name one Junior just to torment their uncle."

"I think you're right about that." Adam laughed. "Maybe I'll do the same thing so that when Pa calls, 'Junior,' half the family will come running." He grinned. "In fact, I'm surprised Pa didn't go with that when we were kids."

"You've forgotten that it was your mothers who picked your names, or I might have done just that." The Cartwright sons entered the house ahead of their father and headed for the steps. Ben walked toward his desk. "I'd like to speak to you privately, Adam," he said loudly enough to break through his sons' chatter as they started upstairs.

Hoss and Joe gave their brother a quizzical look before Hoss said, "Sounds like you done something wrong, Adam. We'll go on up, and let you to your necessary talk."

"Yeah," Joe added, "You better go over what it was you might have done while you make your way over to Pa's desk, and be prepared to confess to your sins, or to spin a really good story to cover them."

Adam sunk into a chair in front of the desk and wondered at his father's concerned expression. " _Is_ something wrong, Pa? You look perplexed."

"Does the name Stanley Winters…or Stanley Freemont sound familiar?"

He thought about it. "No, not that I can place. Should it?"

"You were only four when we met him and his wife, Vera. They stayed at the same boarding house as we did in Cleveland."

Bits and pieces flashed through Adam's mind as he tried to remember. "I recall Cleveland. There was the canal there and I think you worked at the harbor?" Ben nodded. "And I remember an older woman. She let me play in her garden. But that's about it."

"That was Grace Stauffer. She took care of you while I worked." He paused. "You don't recall Stanley and Vera?"

Adam Shrugged. "There's something there, but can't pull it in."

"They, um, 'borrowed' you for a couple of weeks…without telling me."

"You're saying I was kidnapped?" His laugh at this conclusion ended abruptly as old memories began to crowd into the present. "I'd forgotten that, but now I have a few images of a woman towering over me with her finger in my face." He tipped his head as he squinted. "Why are you bringing this up now, Pa?"

Ben pushed the envelope from the investment house across his desk. "This came today. Take a look, and then we'll talk."

"Wow," he said after finishing the first page. "Why would he leave me this money?"

"There's a letter from Stanley at the end." While Adam continued to peruse the contents, Ben walked around his desk and perched on the edge in front of his son.

Adam had to read Stanley's page twice before he could put all the pieces together. He finally looked up and met his father's gaze. "I don't understand how I could have had that much impact on anyone when I was four."

"You've always affected people that way, son." Ben leaned forward, placing his hands on Adam's shoulders. "You may have questions about things after they're over and done with, but you have always shown great character when you're in the midst of them. That was true even when you were a boy. Stanley was a beaten man until he learned to stand up for himself again when he was watching over you. His letter says that if a four-year-old could be courageous against Vera, then he had to regain his courage too." He sat back as his son continued to stare at him. "You haven't changed. You have particular resolve when you are placed in any situation where there's a question of right and wrong. You face the lies and confront the liar. You do it now with your words, but back then you showed your conviction, and made Stanley confront the lies he'd let himself believe. Once he did that, he knew he would either continue on as a liar and kidnapper, or expose the lies and pay the consequences."

"I'm remembering a ride down the canal, but that's about it. What happened to them?"

"Stanley died the day you had that ride. He'd sent you to the barge docks to get you away from Vera. The boat hands took you in and got you back to me. But they'd spread the lie that you'd drowned…just in case your kidnapper came looking for you. Stanley came to Cleveland wanting to confess his misery over all that had happened, directly to me." He shook his head. "Those streets were always dangerous, and he was struck by a wagon and died."

"And Vera?"

"She was declared insane, and confined to a hospital for the rest of her life."

Adam stood abruptly and walked around the chair, before leaning heavily against it. "I don't want that money, Pa. It feels tainted."

Ben chuckled. "I figured you'd say that, and had considered not telling you about this, but then I realized it was your decision to make. It's a considerable sum."

He looked up. "Are you thinking I _should_ take it?"

"Not for you, but I think you could find some way to use it rather than to disclaim it and let it go to Vera if she's still alive, or into escheatment if she isn't."

He remained silent as he scrubbed his face with his hands, and finally laughed. "I'm not thinking well right now. What ways might you suggest?"

"Just last week, you came home from a schoolboard meeting bemoaning that fact that a bright student's family couldn't afford to send him to college. You said that there should be a scholarship fund for such purposes. Why don't you use part of the money to establish an endowment for that? And it seems not long ago you were upset that some of the small ranches and farms in the area couldn't get loans to improve their properties. Didn't you say there should be money available so they could secure small grants if they could show that they were serious about doing their projects?" Ben grinned. "In fact, I kind of remember you saying you'd even help with engineering plans for such ventures."

A blush accompanied Adam's sheepish smile. "I guess you do listen to my rantings. And you've made some very good points. Since we were together when this happened 26 years ago, we'll make plans together now. I think it best if we set up trusts and let others oversee them. I don't want the Cartwrights to be seen as the new territorial bank."

"Sounds like a good plan. We'll work on some ideas after supper." He walked over and patted Adam's back. "Everything Stanley said about you was true. I've tried not to think about those two weeks: it was a dark time, and I felt helpless until we figured out where they'd gone with you. We'd figured out that you were in Akron, and we were about to go get you when you showed up on that barge. Through it all, I trusted you to believe that I would come. You never lost hope, and I can't even explain my relief and joy in seeing you curled up, sleeping on that barge. I was so proud of you, and have always remained that way."

As his father's arm tightened in an embrace, Adam remembered the day he awoke on the barge and flew into his father's arms. A wave of relief and affection swept through him now just as it had 26 years ago, and he drew a satisfied breath and enjoyed the moment. A final memory surfaced as he smiled. "Did you always say, 'the Cartwright men, together forever,' before I fell asleep?"

Ben nodded. "It's what you clung to while you were gone. You told Stanley that I wouldn't have lied about that."

Both men stood quietly for a moment until Adam said, "I have another question. Did Vera call _me_ …Junior?"

"I never heard her say it, but Stanley wrote that she tried to change your name to Junior after they took you. It was in the statement he gave to the police."

Adam snorted as he leaned forward, laughing. "Another mystery solved." He turned serious again as he faced his father. "I presume you're wondering if I'm upset that you never reminded me of the kidnapping before this. I'm not. It's interesting to know that I helped this man when I was a child, but if I had to store something in my memory from those years, I'd prefer it to be the recollections of our journey here." He shook his head as he frowned. "How sad that anyone would have to learn truth from a child. You were _my_ truth, Pa, and that's never changed."

The End

*In my Bonanza stories, I have always had Adam interested in harbor engineering. In my series of stories where I take him to Boston to marry and begin his life away from his family, I have him become the renowned expert in this type of engineering, so it fits that his fascination had to begin somewhere. J

Notes: My four-year-old Adam is based on a combination of my grandchildren who were the finest readers, negotiators and story tellers around when they were that age. In fact one of them could listen to something adults were talking about and repeat it correctly with real understanding when he was three. They were smart and clever, but they were mostly little kids who held up fingers for their age and believed that they were the most important thing to their parents and grandparents.

That's how I picture Adam as a child. He was smart, articulate and paid attention. The Bonanza canon character of Adam isn't a "genius," although he has a very high IQ. He catches on quickly, but he has also worked hard to learn all that he knows. He is a man with a wide variety of interests who never accepts an answer just because someone with more authority or clout gives it. He pushes for, and demands truth, and won't "settle" for ordinary. He read constantly, continued to learn, and I think he always listened more than he spoke, and therefore had a real sense about what was going on around him. He is shrewd but honest, and there's a lot of thespian in him (which might explain how he could "pretend" with Vera even when he was four.) And covering it all is his dry sense of humor that keeps him going in the face of the craziness around him.

The information about the Erie-Ohio canal is all correct. However, I imagine that the barges were smaller than I picture them in the story. But if they carried freight, I'm sure they had to have a small crew, and since they were commercial barges, they probably did have some sort of man or captain in charge. I don't see them as the super barges we have now, but rather a 30-40 foot, flat-bottomed boat that went with the current downstream and had to poled to propel it back upstream. They'd have needed a decent crew to do that.


End file.
